The Alchemist's Shield
by Snape's secret love
Summary: Can Harry fulfill Dumbledore's plan or will darker forces intervene? Begins after OOTP but written preHBP. Backstory Snape, Dumbledore, Tom Riddle.
1. Default Chapter

Chapter One

"Severus, I hoped you would be in your rooms."

Snape halted in the darkened hall and turned towards his headmaster.

Dumbledore clicked his tongue faintly. "Its quite late. Perhaps Pomfrey could give you something. A night of peace could be quite restorative…" he trailed off only to have Snape inquire abruptly.

"What did you wish to see me about, Headmaster?"

Silencing his concern, Dumbledore beckoned Snape to follow him down a dark corridor. They sat down silently on a large stone window ledge. Both men looked carefully up and down the halls. Snape ran his hand absently through his greasy hair. Both looked tense and moved their fingers nervously.

"What plans have been made?" Dubledore began gravely.

"Of course I'm not privy to all the Dark Lord shares, but his main priority is getting to Potter."

Dumbledore nodded knowingly.

"The Dark Lord feels that he is too well guarded here. He intends to chip away at his other protection; Privet Drive, Dragon Alley, The Burrow, Hogsmeade these are areas he believes he can work to his advantage. He is already working his mind on how best to move in these locations. I am to keep him abreast of Potter's whereabouts when he is not at Hogwarts. The Dark Lord insists I contact him immediately if he ever leaves school grounds."

"And now? During school holidays?"

"I am to keep track of Potter through you and the other members of the Order. If anything changes I am to make him aware." Snape paused and bit his lower lip. His next words were slow, apparently carefully considered. "Headmaster, Potter is in grave danger in Little Whining. The family he live with is too vulnerable and without them his protection will fail. I urge you to move him. Send him to the Weasleys' or let him stay at Headquarters."

"Severus, we can not risk voiding the charms I set up for his protection. You know he must spend time there, especially now."

Snape protested. "You are putting the family he lives with at risk."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "These are terrible times and a great number of people are in danger. Moving him would only endanger others."

"But if you placed him with wizards," Snape pressed. "They would have some resources to defend themselves."

I know when I left him at the Dursleys, 16 years ago that it was likely they would be in peril at some future time. It is, alas, unavoidable."

Snape looked agitated. "Unavoidable?!" He jumped to his feet. "This is Lily's sister!"

Dumbledore looked startled at first. Then he stared intently at his Potions Master's face, boring into his eyes. Snape quickly looked away then met the old man's eyes with a closed expression. He sat down heavily and settled in the silence.

Finally Dumbledore spoke. "Is this the only plan you know of concerning Potter?"

"He has intimated to some of his Death Eaters that he desires to exploit the mind connection further." Snape then added quietly. "As he attempted to do last term."

"Attempted successfully, Severus!" Added Dumbledore severely. "Which is an issue that merits much future discussion."

Snape's lower lip curled and he glared unwaveringly at his headmaster. "The Dark Lord has also assigned me another task." He said frostily.

Dumbledore watched him mutely.

Although he desired to keep a cool tone, Snape could not conceal his concern as he detailed Voldemort's plan to have Snape introduce Harry Potter to the Dark Arts.

"The Dark Arts…Yes, I see that's quite brilliant. I have had some fears. You will tell Voldemort that you are using the time set aside to teach Occlumency to instruct Harry Potter in Dark magic. You will, however, redouble your efforts to close Potter's mind to outside influences. Do I make myself understood?"

Snape nodded and made to go until Dumbledore put out an arm to stop him. "There is also some school business we need to touch on." He softened his tone. "You need to know that I've asked Remus to return as the DADA teacher."

The reaction from Snape was immediate and unpleasant. "L-L-Lupin" he sputtered in outrage. He left this school in disgrace after putting numerous parties, including his own students, in mortal danger."

"I know why he left," Dubledore muttered wearily. "You need not remind me. Just as I need not remind you that he resigned on his own terms."

"His own terms indeed! He's a werewolf! A dark, dangerous creature! No parent, no responsible person would have allowed him near a classroom once word of that slipped out."

"And it did slip out," Dumbledore continued acidly. "Quite surprising when one considers all the confidences you've' been entrusted with and have not let...(ahem) slip."

"No one Dumbledore, will allow that creature to teach here at any rate."

"Ah there you are wrong, Severus. That may have been true 3 years ago. But with Voldemort returned and poised to reclaim his position of power – to rain down violence and oppression as far as one can see – well petty prejudices suddenly do not seem so important. There is a real enemy now and families today want their children to be as well trained as possible – anything to keep them safe."

Snape seethed silently.

"Besides," said Dumbledore conversationally. "I need someone to keep an eye on Potter."

"That is my job," Snape hissed.

Dumbledore knitted his brews – he had not anticipated Snape protesting this.

"I've not taken an eye off Potter since he first crossed this threshold," he began haughtily. "And I have never failed to inform you the moment he steps out of line."

Dumbledore smiled. "Yes, but your, (shall we call it vigilance?) Has essentially eliminated the possibility of Harry ever coming to confide in you."

"It was I who discovered that Potter was dreaming of the Ministry through my interactions with him last term." Declared Snape proudly.

"Severus," Dumbledore chided with twinkling eyes "Forcibly breaking into someone's mind does not constitute a trusting relationship. No," he added seriously. "Remus has a rapport with the boy. And Harry needs connections to his father. Remus, it seems, is the only one now who can fill that need."

Snape's head began twitching and he became more agitated. He moved aggressively towards Dumbledore. "But his condition Headmaster. He's never been able to be fully involved in anything. He will not be able to even teach all of his classes – never mind the safety concerns. I'm not at all certain the staff will be amenable to such an appointment."

"Our excellent staff will be supportive of any teacher I appoint," said Dumbledore simply. "However, I am concerned about his teaching load combined with his work for the order. I am going to have him touch an abbreviated schedule."

Snape was indignant. "Headmaster, I carry a full course load of potions, am Head of Slytheran House, work tirelessly for the Order and must remain in constant contact with the Dark Lord and his followers."

"Your efforts are noted and applauded, but do not have any bearing on Remus' courseload. He will be teaching the preparatory students only. The sixth and seventh years will be preparing for NEWTS." Dumbledore watched Snape closely. It was not a pretty sight. Snape was muttering under his breath and watching the floor. "This year in particular the NEWT classes will be of vital importance." He continued.

Snape stopped muttering and looked up with interest.

"The teacher would need to be trusted inherently."

A strange fire began to burn in Snape's eyes. He leapt to his feet and much to Dumbledore's surprise, vigorously shook his hand. "The DADA position! It's what I've always desired – and that you are giving it to me now! I can truly show you where my loyalties lie. People will know I've changed."

"Severus, you don't have to prove your loyalty to me. I trust you."

Snape seemed infused with energy. "Albus, you can not know what this means to me. After all this time – I did not think that you would ever believe I was ready."

Dumbledore was taken aback by Snape's unexpected use of his name, he then looked deeply embarrassed.

"Actually Severus, I was not planning on having you take the class."

Snape looked crestfallen. "And may I ask why, Headmaster?"

A sigh from Dumbledore, "You know all too well the reasons. Nothing has changed. One day you may be ready, but it's not this year." He gave Snape a look, which clearly said "lets not go into this again."

Snape ignored the look. "I'm ready." He said through gritted teeth. "How long do you intend to keep me down in potions?"

Dumbledore was now angry. "I shall keep you in potions as long as I think it necessary! You are not ready! Even if it were an average year I couldn't give you the class – but with Voldemort returned its out of the question…And Newt level? With Potter and Longbottom? It's not up for discussion."

Snape seemed to have lost all restraint with the subject of the DADA position. He leapt forward. "I have stepped back long enough. Let me teach against the Dark Arts that I detest and that have ensnared so many. I know I am prepared! I know I am ready!"

Dumbledore drew himself, looming over Snape whose black eyes glinted dangerously. "Prepared? Were you prepared when you stopped giving Potter Occlumency lessons without my approval? Yes, I know about that – and your weakness nearly lost us everything – the eventual consequences were devastating enough. Sirius – a good man – no matter what you think, - and Potter…" he broke off. "Harry seems so far off now I can't reach him." Dumbledore leaned heavily against the wall. He was hurt by Harry's silence. Snape stared at him stonily, which appalled Dumbledore. How could he stand there so coldly?

"Not enough reason for you Severus?" He asked viscously. "Do we need to go back a little further? 17 – 18 years perhaps?"

Snape paled and his face twisted. He was clearly fighting for control, but Dumbledore was unable to stop himself; not now that Sirius' name had come up.

"I'm thinking in particular of a night several years ago! It was a dark night for you, but it became much darker for some. Didn't it?!" He moved in towards Snape. They were practically touching. "Look at me!" He commanded and Snape's eyes snapped to his face as if by force.

The two figures stood entranced; staring into each other's eyes. Dumbledore seemed to be radiating power. He actually shook. Finally, with a choked scream, Snape collapsed clutching his left arm. His face contorted as if in pain. Dumbledore immediately dropped beside him, every trace of disgust forgotten. He gently reached out to touch Snape's shoulder.

"Don't touch me!" Snape spat recoiling. "Don't come near me!" He uttered with loathing.

Dumbledore was stricken. "Severus," he started tentatively. "Please forgive me. I lost myself. I only hoped that by showing you that memory I could get through to you. I had no idea."

Snape was not listening. He seemed locked in his own head.

"I did not mean to cause you more pain. I only wanted you to see…I did what I had to do."

That brought Snape back. "What you needed to do!" He screamed, his voice tight with emotion. "Do you not think I see that scene played out in my mind a thousand times a day? That one and others – some worse! How many nights I've wandered these passages with no reprieve, - pacing, always pacing in the dark with no escape."

Dumbledore's silver head was bowed. "It does not have to be like this."

Snape cut him off. "I live with what I've done" he said emphatically and then in an accusatory tone "I don't hide in the Pensieve."

Dumbledore looked away.

Snape got to his feet and stood rocking in the corner.

"I shall be taking the NEWT level classes personally." Dumbledore said after a time.

There was no comment from Snape; his mind still focused on the memory he had seen.

Dumbledore bade Snape goodnight, regretfully in lieu of what had transpired. He turned and left but watched Snape unseen for quite some time. Severus never turned to go into his chambers but continued pacing and muttering, stalking through the corridors. It was with a heavy heart that Dumbledore prepared for bed that night. He put his wand to his temple, filling his Pensieve. When he finally laid down to rest it was with the uneasy knowledge that the man he had vouched for, his trusted ally was that very moment stumbling through the halls unable to flee the horrors in his mind. But his final thought was for a teen-age boy several hours away in a small house on Privet Drive.


	2. Chapter Two

Authors Note: Chapters will be posted for The Alchemist's Shield weekly. It is a lengthy story with over ten chapters already written! Please read and review!

Chapter Two

Harry was awoken from a restless sleep by a sharp rap at the door.

"Wake up, boy!" his Uncle demanded crossly.

Harry grunted. His Aunt and Uncle had insisted he more or less remain in his bedroom until the end of holidays. Uncle Vernon, however, still woke him up each morning to ensure that Harry was not enjoying himself by having a lie-in. Harry thought it a testament to his Uncle's thickness that he could still worry about his nephew's wake up call in light of everything that had taken place last year.

Harry, himself, slept very little if truth be told. He wished that he had paid closer attention to what Dumbledore had said about Voldemort and his dreams. He was now wary about doing anything which might give Voldemort access to his mind and that included sleep. Plus there was the awful pain that came with the knowledge that his godfather, Sirius had been killed. Harry tried not to think about it. Dwelling on it made the loss seem unbearable. Nor could he escape the feeling that he, Harry, would also be facing a violent end, most likely soon. Every time he accepted this conclusion, however, another voice in his head would remind him of the great burden of the prophecy.

Harry could not die. If he did, Voldemort would live. It would mean the end of the Free Wizarding World. Countless people were depending on him alone to deliver them from Voldemort. Yet Harry could not conceive of any reality in which he alone could vanquish Lord Voldemort. Dumbledore had told him that he was The One. Harry could not turn his back on his responsibility to so many, but he knew, with every fiber of his being, that he would ultimately fail. That thought spiraled him further into despair.

He dressed mechanically. Knocking over a stack of letters from the dresser. The stack was growing larger each day delivered by Uncle Vernon's hated owls. Harry had not opened any of them even though he saw the handwriting of his friends Ron and Hermione – one even from Ginny. There were also posts from Hagrid and Mrs. Weasley. A few letters were unidentifiable by the handwriting. Harry did not care. He was not going to open any of them. No one knew what he was going through now or ever had. Their holiday stories and trite words of comfort meant nothing to him now. How many of these people were even his friends? How many of them knew about the Prophecy and were just waiting to see him kill or be killed? He picked up an envelope at random and determined by the loopy handwriting that it was from Dumbledore. He flung it across the room.

He had looked up to Dumbledore, trusted him, only to find out that Dumbledore was just using him to take down Voldemort. And when Sirius died last term – Dumbledore had done little. It had been all Snape's fault and Dumbledore continued to trust Snape as if Sirius did not matter. Well he mattered to Harry and Harry was not going to forgive Snape ever. He dwelt on that thought for a moment and it actually seemed to energize him. He went downstairs.

In the kitchen, his Aunt and Uncle sat at the breakfast table. A plate of cold eggs was set in front of Harry. Dudley's seat was empty, as he had inexplicably been sent to stay with Aunt Marge for the summer. The high point of Harry's summer had been seeing Dudley half-drug into the car under great protest. Aunt Petunia had been tearful, Uncle Vernon glum. Harry was doubled over with laughter in his room. He was able to control himself long enough, however, to wave at Dudley gaily from the window. Dudley returned it with a rude muggle hand gesture.

Breakfast today was the same as most mornings Uncle Vernon ate and talked incessantly about drills. Petunia looked beadily around. Harry tried to eat his repulsive breakfast as quickly as possible. "That's enough," snapped Petunia. "You can go on upstairs."

"But I'm still eating," Harry protested.

"You listen to your Aunt, boy" Uncle Vernon broke in. "If you weren't being punished you could be on holiday with Dudley."

Harry stifled a smirk. "What am I being punished for?" he demanded from his Uncle.

"Erm…I don't recall," mused Vernon. "Petunia, what was it he did?"

Petunia was now out of her seat looking out the windows and biting her lips. "Upstairs!" she demanded.

Harry stomped upstairs leaving half of his breakfast. He slammed the door shut and flung himself on the bed. It was a gorgeous day and the sunlight swam through his window. In the warm sunshine of the day he let down his guard and drifted off to sleep.

The telephone rang shrilly – startling Harry awake. Judging by the time of day it was, Harry assumed it was his cousin's daily call. Harry always enjoyed these calls and cracked his bedroom door to listen.

His uncle spoke first. "Showing the lads up there who's boss?" he blustered. "Breaking hearts, are you?"

There was a pause in which Dudley on the other end was undoubtedly detailing the tortures of rubbing Aunt Marge's feet, preparing gourmet meals for her dog, Ripper, and generally having to suffer in her company.

"Now, now son. You know Marge is getting on a bit. She needs some looking after."

There was not even remotely true. Aunt Marge did not need looking after in the least. However, if such an arrangement kept Dudley out of the way for a bit, Harry was prepared to say she was an invalid.

His aunt got on next "Dudley we miss you so much. You know how Mummy needs her Dudders."

Harry wondered what Dudley replied because when Petunia spoke again it was with a choked voice. "You know we can't stand to be apart from you, but you need to take good care of your Auntie."

"No, I'm not sure when you can come home, but we'll send you anything you like. Dad's coming out to see you in just a few days."

"You know I can't leave him here alone – the neighbors will not stand for it. I can't take him either – you know Aunt Marge hates him. I'll miss you Popkin, but I just can't make it this time." She hung up the phone.

"Why don't you leave the boy with Mrs. Figg?" Vernon asked. "Dudders will be crushed to miss his Mum."

"No, it's not doable" Petunia snapped and retreated into the kitchen.

Harry carefully shut his bedroom door and crept back to his bed. He felt an unexpected pang for his Aunt Petunia. Last summer her son had been attacked by dementors because of Harry living with them. This summer Dudley was gone. It did not take a genius to figure out why. Now Aunt Petunia had to tell Dudley that she would not be up to see him. Dumbledore had told Harry that his aunt taking him in may have kept him alive. And she continued to do it now it was so perilous; Harry wondered how many other sacrifices she had made. He had always hated his aunt for the way she treated him, but now he wondered if she was truly as bad as he had assumed. But he was in no mood to think well of anyone at the moment. One act of kindness did not erase the years of poor treatment Harry had been forced to endure from her and her husband.

There was a knock at the door. His dinner tray was on the floor. He looked up and down the hall but saw no evidence of anyone about. His aunt was certainly efficient. Out the window it was growing dark. Harry hated this time of day. He knew the house would be going to bed and he dared not go to sleep. He gathered up his school books for another all night study session. Harry needed the extra studies. His pre-occupation last year had taken its toll on his grades. Without outstanding marks Harry would be unable to be accepted into the Auror program. With a grimace, he reached for his potions books. He had scored poorly on the poisons section of the OWLS. Actually, Harry had not scored well enough on the exams to be admitted into Snape's NEWT level classes, but Dumbledore had hinted that an exception would be made for him. After poring over his books for some time, Harry's mind began wandering to Potions Class.

Snape popped vividly into his head. He thought of all the times Snape had stood in front of the class humiliating Harry. The number of times he had openly mocked him. Harry gritted his teeth angrily as he thought about all the nasty things Snape had said about his father, the things he had said about Sirius. And to stop giving Harry Occlumency lessons when Snape knew how vital it was. Sirius had died because of it. Harry loathed Snape and somehow it felt good to hate him. He dwell on the feeling turning out every other thought in his head – loathing every idiosyncrasy Snape had, hating everything about him. Then he started thinking about the scene he had witnessed in the Pensieve. Snape had been the one being humiliated. Harry smiled to himself secretively. Oddly enough, the more he thought about Snape the calmer he felt. Quite soon he began to feel drowsy and he lay down amongst his books and pillows still picturing Snape suspended in mid-air with jeers from all directions.

Harry had no idea how long he had slept when he was awoken by a noise at his bedroom door. His heart beat wildly in his chest. Had Voldemort sent one of his followers to get him? He jumped out of bed and reached for his wand. Wand aimed at the bedroom door he waited breathlessly in the darkness. The door swung open to reveal a figure – unidentifiable without light. Harry stared hard at the darkness and prepared an impediment curse when a light was suddenly lit revealing his pale faced aunt holding her hands defensively in front of her face.

"Aunt Petunia?" gasped Harry. He could not fathom why his aunt would be up here at – he glanced at the clock – 3:00 A.M. – with a flashlight. He lowered his wand and sat on the bed.

Soundlessly, his aunt shut the door and stepped into the room. She made no move to turn on the lights as Harry expected. The next minute was spent staring at each other.

Aunt Petunia's face was not clear in the light from the flashlight, but when she spoke her voice seemed anxious. "What's he up to, You Know Who?"

Harry knitted his brow. He was not at all sure how to answer. He had no idea what his aunt knew about anything magical as she refused to listen to any talk of the wizarding world. It had become clear to Harry, last summer, however, that Petunia knew far more than he had thought. Instinctively, Harry surmised it was best not to mention anything about Lord Valdemort's attempts to take his mind. "He is back, but nobody really knows what he is doing yet. He's been operating in secret."

"Isn't anyone after him?"

"Well yes, but Lord Valdemort is probably the most powerful Dark Wizard who's ever lived. You can't just go out and grab him."

"Have there been," Aunt Petunia hesitated. "Any killings?"

Harry felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. Vividly the image of his godfather tumbling after a hit by a fatal curse sprang to his mind. He could not trust himself to speak.

The look on his face must have betrayed him. Petunia pressed further. "They say there were troubles this term – that you witnessed an attack."

Harry vaguely wondered who "they" were, but surmised it was most likely Dumbledore. He was irritated. "Hasn't Dumbledore told you already? I know he's written to you."

"He tells me nearly nothing and I'm asking you!" Aunt Petunia said rather sharply.

"My godfather was killed." Harry finally said dully.

There was a gasp. "Sirius Black is dead?!? I don't believe it!"

Now Harry was shocked. "You know my godfather? You knew Sirius?"

"I knew of him," said Petunia firmly. "And I certainly knew about his prison term. That's how we got landed with you in the first place!"

"He wasn't guilty! He was framed!"

Petunia shrugged dubiously.

Harry was growing furious and several retorts were forming on his lips, but stopped short when he caught the look on his aunt's face. She was moving her hands distractedly and chewing her lip. She wore an odd expression which was suddenly illuminated by the flashlight. Harry could not decide if it was fear or pain.

"He was so strong. If he got him…" she trailed off apparently unwilling to finish the thought.

Harry did not see the point in telling her what he felt was a technicality – that Bellatrix LeStrange had actually killed Sirius. He was so struck by his aunt's manner that for the first time in his life he felt sympathetic towards her. He awkwardly tried to reassure her. "Yeah well – I'm sure you're okay here. Dumbledore said you're safe."

"That's what he told my sister." Petunia made to exit abruptly and Harry felt certain he saw her tremble.

With the flashlight extinguished, he stared wide-eyed in the darkness wondering if what his aunt had said was true. Had Dumbledore told his parents they were safe? Had they believed him?


	3. Chapter Three

Author's Note: Dumbledore was not meaning to bait Snape per se. I can not comment too much on this meeting however because it will have importance later on in the story. Chapter 4 will be posted on Friday.

Chapter Three

The next few days passed by much as the others had. Aunt Petunia did not bring up their midnight conference. Harry made a few attempts to get some information out of her, but she was unwilling to discuss anything and continued to act as if the wizarding world did not exist. Harry turned over the possibilities endlessly in his mind, but simply could not reconcile the recent actions of his aunt to her attitude from the past sixteen years. Puzzling it out only made his head ache which underlined his near constant scar pain, with such a conundrum Harry found his thoughts drifting more and more often to Snape. It was somehow soothing to picture Snape as the laughingstock, humiliated beyond misery. As Harry had more idle time, he began to relish these reveries.

The house was busy over the next couple of days. Uncle Vernon was preparing for his trip out to see Dudley. He asked Petunia to accompany him, but she remained firm that she could not leave Harry unattended. She did, however, cook a multitude of sweets to send out. Vernon went out to the local electronics store and came back laden with the latest video games to take out to Dudley.

Harry was glad when the day finally came for Uncle Vernon to leave. Besides the obvious advantages, he hoped to get his aunt to answer some questions. He was desperate for information about his aunt and her curious connections to the magical world. But as soon as Uncle Vernon left, Harry was sent up to his room. Harry could tell from the tone of his aunt's voice that it was unlikely to be the day for any revelations.

Aunt Petunia seemed distracted and anxious throughout the afternoon. As tired as Harry was from lack of sleep, he found he was unable to relax either. He felt certain that something was about to happen, though he could not say what. "Did Aunt Petunia send Uncle Vernon away on purpose?" He wondered.

He could hear his aunt pacing downstairs. Outside the sun was just beginning to dip below the horizon. Hedwig hooted dolefully from her perch. The tension in the air was palpable when the doorbell suddenly screamed through the house. Aunt Petunia stopped dead. Harry rushed downstairs without thinking.

Petunia turned to him with a wild look. "Get back upstairs!" she hissed.

Shaking his head slowly but firmly, Harry stood his ground. He did not know who was at the door, or what they wanted, but he would not be shunted aside any longer.

Harry stood planted on the spot, while Aunt Petunia crossed the room to answer the door. Harry could not see who was at the door, but he could just recognize the voice, although it sounded very strained.

"Petunia, it's been a long time. How have you been?"

Harry's heart leapt. It was the voice of his beloved teacher, Professor Lupin. No sooner then his mood had lifted however, a shadow darkened it. Harry recollected having heard Lupin's strained voice before; most recently just after they had lost Sirius. Harry flashed back to Lupin physically holding him back as he tried to follow his godfather through the veil. He craned his neck to see both parties at the door.

Petunia had not answered Lupin's inquiry and stood glaring at him. Lupin looked at the floor apparently wishing he was anywhere but here with Petunia.

"He didn't have anyone else to send?" she demanded.

"I came personally to offer my assistance, to help" Lupin answered hesitantly.

"To help?" Petunia asked ironically spitting out each word.

"Dumbledore knows I'm here. He believes I can counsel your nephew." Lupin replied mildly.

Petunia studied him. "I know what you are and you are not entering this house!"

Lupin did not protest. "Let me talk to Harry. We can go to Mrs. Figg's." He peered around Petunia to get a look at Harry. He started to frown, but quickly concealed it. Harry knew he was thinner now and wondered if Lupin could see the circles under his eyes from across the room. He did not care. He was so happy to hear a friendly voice. He started eagerly towards the door.

"Professor Lupin," he exclaimed, a smile lighting his face. His smile soon froze. While Harry had never seen Lupin looking well, he was taken a back by how haggard he now appeared. Lupin seemed to have aged significantly in the weeks since Harry had last seen him. He was definitely grayer and his face sagged as if his skin no longer fit his skull.

"Hullo Harry," he said pleasantly extending his hand. "How have you been?"

Aunt Petunia said nothing but continued to glare at Lupin even after they had left the house on their way to Mrs. Figg's.

The pair was greeted by Mrs. Figg in her customary robe and carpet slippers.

"Remus! I heard you were in the neighborhood. Didn't think you'd drop by to see us though."

Lupin seemed surprised to be surrounded by Mrs. Figg's brood of cats. Harry just smiled and leaned down to give them a pat.

"You take no notice of Mr. Tibbles" she said pushing him away from Lupin, "And you" she exclaimed pointing to Harry. "How am I supposed to keep an eye on you when you won't even set foot outside the house?"

Harry shrugged. "They're sort of keeping me prisoner." He said it in an off-hand way but caught a strange look cross Lupin's face.

Mrs. Figg seemed not ton notice anything amiss. "Are you hungry? Did you eat yet?"

Here Harry hesitated. He had not really eaten much at his aunt's, but he sincerely doubted there was anything Mrs. Figg could give him that he would find edible. He had already experienced her cooking on previous visits.

Lupin, however, winked at Harry. "You know how much teenagers eat, Arabella. Why don't you make him up something to eat?"

"Poor Professor Lupin," thought Harry shaking his head. "He doesn't know what he's going to be getting."

Mrs. Figg cluttered loudly around the kitchen as Lupin and Harry sat down at the table. They conversed about such light weight topics as quiddich, school gossip, and the start of the upcoming school year. Harry was delighted to hear that Lupin would be returning to teach at Hogwarts, although he was disappointed that he would not be having class with him.

It was not long before Mrs. Figg started bringing over plates and dishes of unidentifiable foods. Harry picked at it, but Lupin ate ravenously and enthusiastically. He surprised Harry by blushingly requesting second helpings. He had even transfigured his handkerchief into a box and was shoveling food into it for a later meal. Mrs. Figg seemed tickled to death to have someone enjoy her cooking so much. After the dinner plates were put away she excused herself and retreated into another room.

Her cats did not follow but continued to circle around Lupin. Lupin seemed ill at ease with this and kept shifting nervously in his chair. Finally he settled and looked at Harry intently. It seemed as if he wanted to say something but did not know what.

"How have you really been, Harry?" He asked at last.

Harry frowned. He knew there was probably a reason for Lupin's visit. He had never simply dropped by before. All the same, Harry knew he did not want to have this conversation.

"I'm doing okay," he said earnestly.

"I know you're hurting," Lupin pursued. "And I know you don't have anyone at home to talk to."

There was no answer.

"Harry, I miss him too. I think we should discuss this."

"What for?" Harry asked faintly. "There's nothing you can say that can change things or make me feel any better."

"No," Lupin replied shaking his head. "I can't change things. There's no wizard powerful enough to do that. What happened was terrible, but we have to be able to move on from there."

"I told you. I'm getting by okay. There's nothing to talk about."

Lupin sighed "I'm not sure you are, Harry. I hear you aren't sleeping, barely eating…"

Harry interrupted him. "Who told you that?" he demanded. "Was it Dumbledore? Is that why you're here? Because Dumbledore sent you?" He could not disguise the hurt in his voice.

"No," said Lupin emphatically. "I came because I wanted to. I wanted to see you. I enjoy talking to you."

Harry glared sullenly at the floor. He could not be mad at Lupin, but Dumbledore was a different story.

Lupin opened his mouth to speak but closed it again as he watched Harry. He was apparently surprised by Harry's outburst. "Wait a minute. What's all this about Professor Dumbledore? What's going on?"

Harry did not answer. He found he wanted to tell Lupin what had been playing on his mind all summer, but something held him back.

"Come on Harry. Talk to me. You know I'm on your side."

Harry looked up and met Lupin's eyes. He found them to be filled only with concern. Harry remembered how often they had spoken in his third year. Lupin had been a source of guidance and comfort. Before he knew it, Harry was blurting out the story of the prophecy to a sober looking Lupin. He even told Lupin how Dumbledore had planned, since Harry was an infant, to use him as a weapon against Lord Voldemort. As Harry spoke, his voice was filled with bitterness. He did not try to hide the feelings of betrayal he felt from Dumbledore.

When Harry finally stopped speaking, Lupin was silent. "So it is your belief that Professor Dumbledore only cares about you as the potential vanquisher of Voldemort?" He finally asked.

Harry nodded.

"No Harry," Lupin said gently but firmly. "Dumbledore would not do that. He absolutely would not do that to anyone."

"But the prophecy – He's known all along and he hasn't told me. He sent me to my Aunt and Uncle's. He kept me there until I was old enough to be of use."

"Yes, he knew about the prophecy and he hoped, as we all do, that one day Lord Voldemort might be defeated forever, but never at the cost of someone's life, someone who did not willing want to face him."

Harry was unconvinced. He muttered something about dueling Voldemort.

Lupin paled, but kept a calm tone. "No one knows what the future holds Harry. It may be, in due time, that you wish to face Lord Voldemort head on. It may be that you find another way to fight him. Perhaps the path you choose will be a different one altogether. But the choice you make will be your own. No one can make it for you. It wasn't predetermined by the stars or the moon. It wasn't selected your Headmaster. And it is your right, your inherent right as a human being to be allowed to make those decisions. Albus Dumbledore can not alter that. Nor would he ever wish to. There is not a person living that has fought as long or as hard for freedom as he has. To attempt to control someone would be absolutely abhorrent to him."

Harry was feeling swayed by his teacher's words. Up until now, he had always admired and respected Dumbledore was capable of such a cold, calculated maneuver.

Even so, there was still the matter of Severus Snape. He wanted to ask Lupin about it, but doing so might bring up the subject of Occlumency which he did not feel comfortable discussing. But it was more than that – the scene, he, Harry had witnessed in the Pensieve – he could not get it out of his mind. He enjoyed seeing Snape being laughed at and taunted. That was something he did need to keep from Lupin. It was something just for him. Still, it upset him that Dumbledore would continue to work with Snape when so much was at stake.

"Sir, do you know why Professor Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape so much?" He asked as politely as he could, trying to sound just mildly curious.

"I'm not a mind reader, Harry. I couldn't say. I'm sure he has his reasons."

Harry wondered if Lupin was being entirely honest. His answer seemed evasive. "But you were around, weren't you? When my parents were still alive?"

"Yes that's true," Lupin replied slowly. "But plenty of things occurred that I was not aware of." He cleared his throat and continued wryly. "You see most people believed that I was getting information from…other sources."

Harry felt his face redden. He had forgotten that Lupin had been mistakenly identified as a spy. He felt terrible now to remind Lupin of it "What would it be like," he wondered "if he could no longer trust Ront Hermione? Or worse, what if they suddenly stopped trusting him, like had happened to Lupin?"

Harry nodded and got up from the table. He suddenly remembered that there was something he wanted to ask Lupin. Aunt Petunia had seemed to know Lupin. Harry wondered how.

"I can't say that I really know your Aunt, but I did meet her through your parents."

Harry would have liked to find out more, but Lupin was already summoning his toothbrush and pajamas from Privet Drive so he started to prepare for bed.

Lupin, however, was unable to walk with the mob of cats underfoot. "Ara bella," he finally called in frustration. "Do you think you could do something with your…erm pets?"

Mrs. Figg laughed and whistled. The cats immediately desisted in harassing Lupin. Harry went into the spare bedroom, but left the door open.

"They seem well trained. Why were they so excitable before?" Lupin queried.

"Well they're not your average cats are they? They sense something's different about you and they're trying to warn me. Aren't you Mr. Tibbles?" She said with affection.

"Kneazles, of course!" exclaimed Lupin.

"Well we Squibs can't manage without them can we? At least not in the magical world." She then made some attempt to lower her voice, but Harry could overhear her quite clearly. "So Potter – is he alright? Will he be okay?"

Lupin lowered his voice significantly. Harry strained to listen. "He's going through a difficult time and he really doesn't have any support system here. I think he's coping as well as can be expected. I'll have to speak to Dumbledore though. Harry's misunderstood some things that he's said and Harry's apparently been quite upset by them. Well it's late and he must be ready for his potion by now. I'll take it into him."

Harry was now sitting on the bed in his pajamas. "Professor, is this the same potion I took before so that I wouldn't have any dreams?"

"No this is a little different. This potion will ensure pleasant dreams and restful sleep."

"Won't that leave my mind open?" Harry asked anxiously.

"No Harry you mustn't worry, that's why I chose this particular potion. I want you to think back on your dementor lesson because you'll need a happy memory. Concentrate on that now."

Harry immediately thought of his Christmas with Sirius, but that memory was tainted. He soon flashed back to the sight of the duel between Sirius and Bellatrix Lestrange which had led to his godfather's death. "Okay. Something happy," Harry thought. Quiddich, leaving the Dursleys…but unbidden a vision of himself performing the crucio curse on Bellatrix leapt into his mind. Yet it was slightly different from the actual event. This curse was clearly working; Bellatrix Lestrange was on the ground screaming, her arms and legs twisting grotesquely. A smile curled on Harry's face. He felt powerful, exhilarated, and enormously satisfied.

"I see you picked a memory. Quiddich perhaps?"

Harry reddened. He could not tell Lupin about this.

Lupin smiled knowingly. "Its okay, you don't have to tell me. I was your age once. I remember my first crush."

Harry rolled his eyes behind Lupin's back, surprised he could be so irritated by him. He grabbed the potion off the nightstand. So anxious was he to spend the night with this particular dream, that he drank it down greedily. He almost instantly felt light-headed while his arms and legs felt quite heavy. Lupin took the cup from his hands or he would have dropped it. He was asleep almost immediately. The last thing he remembered was Lupin shutting the light off on his way out the door. "Pleasant dreams Harry."


	4. Chapter Four

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Chapter Five will be posted on Friday.

Chapter Four

Lupin had slept restlessly the night before. After Harry had gone to sleep, Lupin remained awake thinking about how things had gone. He was relieved to see Harry sleeping peacefully under the effects of Pomfrey's potion. Lupin decided to recommend the potion be given nightly. He could not stand to see the teenager looking so worn.

He had hoped that Harry would have opened up to him about Sirius. He could imagine the pain that Harry was in, and to hear him speak of Sirius would have meant more to Lupin than he could have said. With a sigh, he remembered 3 years ago when he had met up with Sirius in the Shrieking Shack. They were both vindicated and had embraced like brothers. What had happened since then?

Lupin's thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Harry stirring in the next room. He checked on the time – late morning. Mrs. Figg was out at the store and Lupin wanted a word with the boy before she returned.

Eventually Harry wandered out dressed and looking well-rested. Lupin's eyes however, were drawn to Harry's scar, half-visible beneath his unruly hair. There was something different about it that made it stand out today. Was it darker? Larger? A different hue? Lupin could not say for certain, but was quite concerned. He rose to his feet.

"Oh no Harry! How are you feeling?" He exclaimed.

Harry looked surprised. "I'm fine Professor."

"Your scar – does it hurt very badly?"

Harry put his hand up absently to his forehead. "No," he answered in a puzzled tone. He traced it gingerly with his finger. "In fact it doesn't hurt at all."

Lupin was instantly relieved. "Good. I just thought…well anyway – Did you sleep well?" Had it been his imagination? Lupin tried deliberately to never notice Harry's scar. He wanted to avoid the memories it might bring up. With that in mind, it was possible that the scar had not changed appearance at all. He contemplated asking Harry about it, but decided not to. It would probably frighten Harry and he seemed relatively happy this morning. Lupin startled as he realized that Harry had been speaking to him as he had been considering the matter. He missed most of what Harry said, but caught the last bit – a question.

"So do you think I could take that potion every night?"

"Well clearly you can't take it while you are staying with your relations, but it may not be a bad idea during the school term, if you feel it's helpful."

Harry nodded eagerly.

"Provided its okay with Professor Dumbledore." He qualified. "I'll check with him. I'm glad you got some rest. Lupin's earlier worriment about the scar soon vanished. Harry appeared well, the circles under his eyes lightened.

Harry pushed aside a pile of ginger cuts and slouched on the couch casually inquiring about the whereabouts of Mrs. Figg.

After he answered Harry's question, Lupin drew up a chair and indicated that he wanted to speak with Harry before her return. Harry sat up straight and faced his teacher. Lupin felt apprehensive about talking to the teenager in this context, but had resolved to do it. He started slowly but clearly. "Actually Harry, I wanted to speak to you about this last year. I felt somebody needed to, but I didn't think I had the right to. However, things are a bit different now as you well know. Your godfather is no longer here, nor are your parents, and I feel I have a responsibility to them and to you. I feel I have no right not to speak."

"Did I do something wrong Professor?" Harry asked.

"No Harry…" Lupin started automatically then stopped himself. "I want you to think about how you've been treating people lately, especially the ones that care about you, then maybe you can answer that question for yourself."

Harry did not respond. He kicked the heel of his shoe into the floor.

Lupin hoped he had made an impression. The boy seemed irritated and the last thing Lupin wanted to do was alienate Harry. Yet he knew that if James were alive he would not like the person Harry was growing into. He was relieved when Mrs. Figg came bounding in the door. They said their good-byes and started on the short walk back to the Dursley's.

When they reached Harry's house, Lupin put a hand out to stop him. He reached into his robes and pulled out a small photograph which he presented to Harry. "This was found in the clean up. I saved it for you."

Harry reached out and took the picture. It was a portrait of Sirius Black taken when he was a teenager. He was handsome in the way that Lupin remembered him, before Azkaban. Harry studied it carefully and thanked him.

"I'll be seeing you at Hogwart's soon" Lupin said clasping him on the shoulder. "Take care of yourself." Something drew his gaze away from Harry. Petunia was watching him from inside the screen door. "Harry, why don't you go right upstairs? I need to have a word with your aunt."

Harry looked at him quizzically, but nodded and walked towards the house. When he reached the entrance, he turned and waved with a smile.

Lupin returned the smile weakly. He began to walk slowly towards the doorway. There was nothing he wanted to do less than approach Petunia, but he felt somehow compelled to. It seemed as though the driveway were 100 miles long, as he made his weary way up the path. When he finally reached the door, Petunia did not greet him but stood with her hands on her hips. He looked at the ground miserably.

"Petunia, I just wanted to say – erm – about Sirius – I'm, I'm really sorry."

He hated this. It was if he were back in school. How many times had he had to apologize for Sirius? How many times had he stood in front of some girl – wringing his hands and mumbling awkward apologies in Sirius' wake? Not that Sirius had ever asked him to or ever even thought it necessary. No, it had always been Lupin, watching from the outside and feeling badly about how Sirius had acted – hating to see anyone hurt – as if he were responsible for the way Sirius treated people. As if anyone could have any effect on the way he behaved.

Lupin looked up to see Petunia purse her lips. Her eyes glinted almost imperceptively and she started to shut the door.

"Wait! You do know." Lupin called out – desperate that she know – "he wasn't their secret keeper!"

Petunia paused ever so slightly, said nothing, and slammed the door in Lupin's face.

Stepping back, Lupin looked up to see Harry's head disappearing from the second story window. Lupin felt a responsibility to that boy he had never felt before. He lingered in front of the house for a moment, then softly disappeared, late already for his meeting with Dumbledore.

When he finally reached his Headmaster's office, Dumbledore greeted him cordially. Lupin sat down, suddenly quite weary.

Dumbledore watched him closely. "So how is Harry?"

"He's managing as well as can be expected. I think he'll be better when he gets to school."

"Did you have any problems with his aunt?"

"She wouldn't let me in, but that was not unexpected. She did let me speak to him though. We went down to Arabella's as you may know."

Dumbledore nodded and looked at Lupin intently. "Does he still grieve for Sirius?"

"He's devastated," Lupin answered instantly. He wondered idly if he were speaking more for himself than Harry. "I mean, he's coping, but you can see the toll it's had on him."

Dumbledore moved behind his desk and sat down heavily. "The closest thing to a parent he's ever known. It's a terrible loss. I hate to see him suffer this, especially now."

"I would like to be there for him, like Sirius was." Lupin declared quietly. "I hope he knows that."

"I'm sure he does, Remus" Dumbledore muttered. "So he's looking poorly?"

Here Lupin smiled. "He looks more and more like James every time I see him. But he does look exhausted – he's thinner now." He considered bringing up his scar, but dismissed the idea. There were enough concerns already. "There's a reason he's not sleeping, but I'm worried he's not eating. Arabella fixed us a lovely supper, but Harry barely touched it."

Dumbledore stifled a smile. "Well I'm sure there are reasons for that. Why isn't he sleeping?"

"He's afraid to," Lupin replied sadly. "He thinks Voldemort will force his way into his mind. He did sleep last night when he took Pomfrey's potion. I think he should take it every night."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair tapping his fingers in careful consideration. When he finally spoke, it was hesitantly. "I'm not inclined to think that that is the best course of action at present. Unless I'm mistaken, Harry's best defense is Occlumency. His only hope is to master it. My fear is that he will attempt to use the potion instead of arming his mind against assault."

Lupin got the impression that Dumbledore had another reason that he was keeping to himself. He wondered what it might be, but did not ask about it. Finally Lupin told Dumbledore about the discussion he and Harry had had about the Prophecy.

Dumbledore suddenly looked very old. He put his head wearily in his hands, his long silver hair draping around him like a veil, hiding his face. He sighed deeply. "I hid it from him for fifteen years, Remus. I couldn't keep it from him any longer. He's nearly a man."

Up until now, Lupin had allowed himself to think that Harry was mistaken about the terms of the prophecy as he had been about Dumbledore's motives. All hope of that vanished with the sound of Dumbledore's voice. Sitting numbly in his chair, Lupin stared at the curtain of silver hair – silently willing it to give him some gesture or word that could ease the sinking sensation which now gripped him. But there would be no word of consolation from Dumbledore. He sat unmoving in his chair, silenced Lupin suspected, by his own despair.

Soundlessly, the two men sat absorbed in their own dark thoughts – apart and alone "The moment, may come," thought Lupin. "When I have to deal with the knowledge that all my friend's strife, their losses, their sacrifices, have only led to a future in which Harry must face a terrible fate." But he could not think of that now. He waited for Dumbledore to compose himself. Finally he withdrew his head from his hands.

"The Hall is full of prophecies that have never come to pass, Dumbledore."

"Let's hope this will be another one" Dumbledore responded with little apparent conviction.

A tapping at the window turned their attention. There was a white owl outside on the ledge. It was Hedwig. Dumbledore opened the window and took the envelope from the owl. He unsealed it and glanced over it quickly, smiling at Lupin. "Well it seems you have managed to make an impression on young Mr. Potter. He's finally answered my owl." Then his eyes twinkled. "That reminds me, Remus. An owl arrived for you earlier today." He handed him an envelope. "It's from Miss Tonks. She's in Hogsmeade on Ministry business." When Lupin made no response, Dumbledore continued jovially. "A drink at the Three Broomsticks with good company could be a refreshing end to what's surely been a troubling day."

Lupin stowed the unopened owl into his robes – self-conscious under his Headmaster's gaze. He rose to leave, but stopped short as he caught sight of a dark figure in the doorway. It was Severus Snape on his way in to see Dumbledore.

"Ah Severus," Dumbledore called in greeting.

Lupin began to extend his hand reluctantly, but changed his mind. There were many people who refused to shake his hand because of his werewolfism, but Snape looked as if he might just hex it off if Lupin offered it. He decided to nod politely instead.

Snape glared at him and strode past him towards Dumbledore's desk. He folded his arms and looked at the Headmaster expectantly. Lupin tried to keep a pleasant expression on his face, but began inching his way towards the door.

Looking from one man to the other, Dumbledore frowned. He motioned for them to sit down.

Snape remained standing and glowered down at Dumbledore. Reluctantly, Lupin returned to his seat.

"Gentlemen, while I have you both here," Dumbledore started in a falsely cheerful tone. "I wanted to have a word about Harry Potter's Occlumency."

Stiffening involuntarily, Lupin stole a glance at Snape. His expression was inscrutable.

"You can confirm Potter's schedule with Minerva," Dumbledore told Snape. "When you have found a convenient time for lessons, let Remus know. He will make sure Harry is in attendance and well-prepared."

Knowing Harry as he did, Lupin groaned inwardly. It would not be easy to get him in the classroom with Snape.

Snape opened his mouth as if to argue, but Dumbledore cut him off. "After what occurred last term – I am certain that all parties will be able to lay aside any personal differences for the greater good."

Lupin thought Dumbledore was overestimating both Snape and Harry. Based on what Harry had described to Sirius and him last year, it seemed impossible that Snape would be able to stand in the same room with Harry, let alone teach him anything. Harry's intense dislike of Snape would not help matters.

"If Potter is permitted to break into my Pensieve, as he did last year, Occlumency with me will be nearly as dangerous as if he took from you." Snape said silkily, arching his eyebrows.

"You know perfectly well that Potter is not allowed to access your Pensieve, Severus. He was fifteen. He made a mistake." Lupin asserted.

Snape wheeled around on him so suddenly, he knocked a book off the Headmaster's desk. His eyes were wide and his teeth clenched. Lupin leaned back in his chair as far as he could. Snape leaned forward, his eyes lit up.

"Did he tell you what he saw in the Pensieve?" he demanded. "Did he?"

Before Lupin could think of a response, an even uglier look twisted Snape's features. He bent down and shook the arms of Lupin's chair. "Did he tell Black?!" he spat. "Tell me!"

Lupin's jaw dropped. He stared at Snape speechless. "Enough!" thundered Dumbledore from behind his desk.

Snape curled his lip at Lupin and stalked over to the other side of the room.

"Severus, you will instruct Harry as discussed. Remus, you will insure that a similar incident will not occur in the future." Dumbledore looked at Lupin hard as if to impress upon him the importance of his role in this.

Lupin leaned over to retrieve the book that Snape had knocked over. He wanted desperately to get out of Dumbledore's office and eliminate himself from this scene, but Lupin knew that he had to speak out about the proposed arrangements. He felt certain it could not succeed. "My only concern," he began mildly, "is that Harry sometimes has difficulty responding to Professor Snape's…erm – teaching style."

"Ah" Dumbledore nodded slowly. Again he tapped his fingertips together. "You may have a point. Perhaps if Harry took lessons with another student – he might not find it so…intense." He looked at Snape as he proposed it, but Snape stood rigidly, muttering to himself, apparently unable to take in anything further.

Lupin thought that Dumbledore's idea was brilliant. Adding another student would likely depersonalize things.

"Who could we get?" Dumbledore mused. "Someone from a trusted family. It's a pity Fred and George Weasley are out of school – they would certainly lighten up the atmosphere."

Lupin smiled.

"Seriously though, the Weasley family is already in the Order. It would have been perfect. I'm not inclined to ask Ronald. He's too close to Harry and I fear he would find the skills rather difficult."

"I agree" said Lupin. "Ron would probably aggravate the situation. A shame though, a Weasley would have been perfect."

Dumbledore knitted his eyebrows thoughtfully. "What about the youngest, Ginny Weasley? She's not in Harry's class, but is old enough and clever enough to study Occlumency." Without waiting for Lupin's approval, Dumbledore nodded. "I'll set it up with Minerva."

Sensing that his presence was no longer required, Lupin rose and excused himself. He passed by Snape who stood rigidly by a corner of Dumbledore's desk – pulling on his greasy black hair. Just as Lupin reached for the doorknob, there was a rap from the other side of the door. He pulled it open. On the threshold, lime green bowler hat in hand, stood an abashed Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic.


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note**: Harry finally meets up with Ron and Hermione next wek

**Author's Note:** There was a line omitted from the first chapter. It has since been corrected, but readers who read the original posting will need to know that Dumbledore will be taking sixth and seventh year DADA classes. He tells Snape so in the first chapter.

Chapter Five

Fudge looked from Lupin to Snape in dismay. He had not wanted an audience for this. Lupin excused himself immediately, practically fled from the room, but Snape remained in place. Dumbledsore did not even rise from his chair. Twisting his hat nervously, Fudge remained rooted to the spot. There was dead silence in the room.

Finally, Dumbldore spoke. "Good Evening, Cornelius." He sounded unusually formal.

Snape nodded at him curtly. "Minister," he uttered, using his title with obvious contempt.

Taken aback by Snape's tone, Fudge nodded back as casually as he could. "Snape, old man, how are you?"

He had never really liked Snape, never felt comfortable around him. Fudge thought he was creepy, always looming around Dumbledore. Fudge could not understand why Dumbledore seemed to trust him so much. Snape's history was dubious and he looked as if he belonged to the darkest of wizards.

Fudge approached the Headmaster's desk wondering if he looked as flustered as he felt. It had been difficult getting here. He was under constant attack from owls bearing howlers from irate citizens. Glancing up, he saw several owls trying to gain access through the closed office windows. Their beaks sounded like hail against the glass panes.

"I think someone is trying to get in touch with you, Minister." Dumbledore commented with obvious amusement. "Shall I open the window?"

"No," cried Fudge, waving his arms in alarm.

He threw himself into an easy chair by the fireplace. The _Daily Prophet_ was lying open on the table. A moving picture showing a group of protestors at the Ministry of Magic was featured on the front page. The tiny protestors shook their fists at Fudge and demanded his removal from office. They all wore sunglasses and carried white canes: the universal symbol of Fudge's blindness to Lord Voldemort's return. One group was even burning Fudge in effigy. Fudge watched sadly as his miniature self was consumed by flames.

He knew that he could not withstand this sort of public pressure, yet he so loved being Minister of Magic. He commanded respect. People looked up to him. Fudge knew that if he gave up his office he would give up the acclaim as well. He wished he could conjure the kind of awe he saw Dumbledore inspire. And to have to leave office like this- it was humiliating. But what choice did he have? Regretfully he told Dumbledore that he intended to resign.

Dumbledore and Snape exchanged looks. "I'll speak to you later." He told Snape, dismissing him.

After Snape had left, Dumbledore surveyed Fudge with interest. "You can not resign." He said simply.

Annoyed, Fudge threw the paper at Dumbledore. "Look at this! They're out for blood! If I don't resign, they'll run me out!"

The old wizard shook his head. "I've told you time and time again Cornelius. It does not matter what the public's opinion is, what matters is what is right. Surely after last year you would have realized that."

The one thing Fudge did not need now was another sermon from Dumbledore. What was Dumbledore playing at anyway? The Ministry had been embarrassed last year when He Who Must Not Be Named had appeared after their repeated denials of his return. Fudge had even attempted to arrest Dumbledore in his mania to protect the Ministry. What possible reason would Dumbledore have to want to keep Fudge in office?

He cleared his throat. "I doubt anyone believes that I have the ability to guide the Ministry through these times of crisis. You Know Who has already been allowed to operate for over a year."

"You can not allow your past personal mistakes to further worsen the affairs of the state."

"No, but I can't allow those mistakes to be compounded either. I shall step down and let someone more capable take over."

"But you have no successor!" Dumbledore replied all too clearly exasperated.

Fudge could not see how this mattered. The man next in line for Minister had resigned immediately after the Ministry had confirmed Voldemort's return. Resigned and virtually disappeared. Fudge now wished he had done the same.

"It'll go to a General Election then. Honestly Dumbledore, I would have thought that that would be what you wanted. The people get to choose their own Minister."

Dumbledore did not look pleased at all. "Your resignation at this time is quite impossible."

Fudge was now tired of Dumbledore's drama. Deciding to relinquish his position had been difficult enough. He did not need Dumbledore telling him that he could not do it.

He gestured to the newspaper. "Look at those people! If I don't step down they will only force a vote of no confidence. Either way I am out and it'll go to an election. Let the people figure out how to handle this mess!"

Dumbledore pounded his fist on the desk. "Cornelius, are you really that naive?"

Fudge started at this uncharacteristic display of anger, which seemed to disappear as quickly as it surfaced.

Dumbledore continued calmly. "Do you really think that Voldemort's Death Eater's are going to concern themselves with the electoral process? Don't you think they might find the onus of having to win a majority a tad bit cumbersome?"

Fudge shivered at the sound of Voldemort's name. Why did Dumbledore insist on using it But there was something else. He was not certain as to what the Headmaster was implying, but it sounded rather sinister. He felt a wave of panic sweeping over him. He wanted nothing else to do with the Ministry and told Dumbledore so.

The old wizard looked defeated and disgusted. "If you insist upon this course of action, at least name a successor."

Fudge agreed readily. He had little interest in the workings of the government if it did not directly involve in them. He was astounded however, when Dumbledore proposed Arthur Weasley as a candidate.

"Arthur Weasley" he asked incredulously. "Isn't he in the Office of Muggle Artifacts? He's hardly qualified. Besides he's been written up for various misdemeanors. He has no reputation to speak of. He has that weird Muggle obsession. And the Purebloods loathe him. It would never work."

Dumbledore remained adamant.

"Even if I ask him, he'll never accept. He has no ambition to be Minister of Magic."

"No he doesn't." Agreed Dumbledore. "But he will accept none the less. He is, after all, a public servant."

"Fine, fine," Fudge uttered slapping his hat on his head. He felt as if Dumbledore was sitting in judgement of him.

"And why should he?" thought Fudge. "I am still the Minister of Magic after all." He glanced outside. The owls had multiplied outside the window, and Fudge would have to walk to Hogsmeade before he could disapparate. He winced at the thought of the undignified sprint he would undoubtedly have to make with the owls in hot pursuit. Nor did he know what he would find at his flat. The previous night he had had to contend with flaming rockets that spelled out "Fudge Fibs" directly over his roof. It was a sorry state of affairs.

Fudge stayed up late into the night, savoring the last hours of his Ministery. It was hard to believe that it had come to this. Every choice he had made in his adult life was directed at gaining and maintaining the highest political office in the land. It had been difficult. In his heart Fudge knew that he was not an exceptional leader. He relied on others for advice. He had ignored Dumbledore's advice about Voldemort's return and it had cost him his office. Fudge feared the total cost would be much greater than one man's career. He would have to live with that. He only hoped Dumbledore would be able to be able to halt Voldemort before true chaos began.

In front of him was a blank piece of parchment. There was one last task he had to do before he left office, a distasteful one. He had to write an official pardon for Lucius Malfoy. Fudge owed Malfoy a few too many favors not to. And after seeing the people Malfoy had become involved with, he had reason to fear for his own safety.

Fudge did not really believe that Lucius was a public threat either. Malfoy had a wife and son, was from an old family. Fudge could not imagine that he would want to risk it all by throwing his lot in with Lord Voldemort. And if he did- well it really would not be Fudge's problem anymore.

He hastily scribbled a document pardoning Lucius and excusing him from trial on the grounds of mistaken identity. "Polyjuice potion", he thought as he wrote. "You could explain anything with polyjuice" He slid the parchment out of sight.

Looking up, Fudge spied the source of the now constant racket at the windows. His house was virtually covered with owls. But there were no rockets or other mischief tonight. The charms that he had set up must be working. He peered out the window. It was quiet and dark, actually quite dark, a starless sky. Satisfied that he would have no disruptions, he went to his bedchamber to put on his dressing gown.

It was then that he heard several light popping sounds downstairs. "Really now," he thought. "Protesters in the Ministerial flat! This was all too much! It was a private residence after all!" He stormed downstairs to chase off the offenders, but found no protestors. Instead he came face to face with four cloaked and hooded Death Eaters- three in front and one in back. He went for his wand but was not fast enough.

"Accio Wand!" The shortest Death Eater exclaimed.

His wand flew to the outstretched hand of one of the Death Eaters.

Fudge began backing slowly up the steps. "What do you want from me?" He demanded.

"Now, now Minister. There's no reason to be inhospitable. We just want a word with you."

Gripping the banister of the staircase, Fudge steadied himself.

"It has come to the Dark Lord's attention that you are looking to fill McClaggan's position." The tallest Death Eater said, he appeared to be leader.

"What? How?" Fudge was shocked. He had only spoken to Dumbledore hours ago. How could anyone possibly know?

"The Dark Lord knows all!" One of the Death Eaters, a woman, shrieked gleefully.

Fudge could see her eyes shining behind her mask. "Bellatrix Lestrange! You'll be sent back to Azkaban for this!"

"Azkaban!" She cackled madly. "Azkaban is our headquarters!"

The Death Eater in charge held up a warning hand. "The Dark Lord wishes to advance his own candidate." He uttered.

"I'll daresay he does," thought Fudge. "Your Lord does not make executive decisions regarding this realm." He declared with a bravado he did not feel.

"Of course not", the apparent leader replied unctuously. "Why should he? The Dark Lord has been well pleased with your decision making thus far. He believes the name Fudge will be in the history books as the noble Minister who allowed him a second chance for world domination."

Even in the midst of his terror, Fudge's heart sank. Would he really be remembered as the man who let Voldemort take over a second time? Dumbledore had predicted as much nearly two years ago. If only he could go back and rethink his decisions. He knew he could not go back and erase his previous mistakes, but he could make a stand now. He would not allow Voldemort's follower's to force him into anything.

"I've already chosen a man." He told the Death Eaters.

Bellatrix Lestrange seemed delighted that he was attempting to oppose them. "Need some persuasion, Fudge?" She asked, raising her wand threateningly.

"Impedimenta" he heard the Death Eater in the back mutter. It was the first time he had spoken.

Bellatrix froze in midair.

"I think you'll find that won't be necessary, Bellatrix." He whispered malevolently. "Fudge has never been known to create obstacles. Not once he knows what the stakes are." He raised his voice to address Fudge, though it was still muffled. "Isn't that correct… Minister?" He pronounced with obvious scorn.

Fudge's head reeled. He had heard that tone before, but where?

The Death Eater in the back continued. "You see Fudge, all we are asking you to do is appoint young Percy Weasley. Is that really worth your life?"

"Percy Weasley?" Fudge asked in confusion. "That kid who works in my office. You must be mistaken."

"There's no mistake, Fudge." The tall Death Eater said gravely. "Do we have an agreement or will you need to consult with Mrs. Lestrange?"

Bellatrix's eyes glowed with mad excitement.

Quickly Fudge played the matter over in his head. _Dumbledore had specifically asked him to promote the elder Weasley. Still, the candidate the death Eaters had put forward was harmless. Percy Weasley was no evil dictator. He was barely out of Hogwarts. What point was there in opposing his appointment? Dumbledore would be unhappy but that was all he could come up with. If Lord Voldemort wanted Percy Weasley in office he would likely get his way- with or without Fudge. Why throw his life away over this? He was one day from retirement._

Reluctantly, Fudge agreed to name Percy Weasley as his successor. He stared at the Death Eater in the back, certain he had heard him somewhere before. Who could it be?

"You will tell no one we were here." Bellatrix murmured, her wand raised. "That includes your white- haired Muggle -loving friend. If you speak, we will find out. Oh yes, we will. And it will be my pleasure, my personal pleasure, to show you anyone of a number of unnatural ways to die!"


	6. Chapter Six

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Sorry about the accents! See you next Friday.

Chapter Six

"Ye'll be alright, won't ye Harry?" Hagrid asked. He pointed to the bar. "I just want a word with some of 'em – about this." Hagrid indicated a newspaper article.

Harry did not need to even look. He knew Hagrid was referring to the newest article on Percy Weasley. _The Daily Prophet_ had run articles on him for a week now. Harry doubted there was a person in all of England that did not know Percy would be the Youngest Minister of Magic ever (provided Fudge did not stay in office).

"I'll be right over here if you need me." Hagrid looked around warily. "Ron and Hermione should be here straight away."

"Its okay, Hagrid. I'll wait here – besides I'm sure Dumbledore has other eyes out too."

"Aye, I'm sure o' that" nodded Hagrid.

Harry sipped his iced pumpkin juice, savoring its taste, as Hagrid ambled over to the bar. He was sitting at a table in the Leaky Cauldron, feeling the happiest he had been all summer. When Hagrid had come to Privet Drive this morning to pick him up, Harry had practically skipped out to meet him. Seeing him was not a surprise, of course. It had all been arranged in advance by Dumbledore.

Harry had taken Lupin's words to heart and written to his friends after his visit. Hermione had written back immediately suggesting they all meet up in Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies. She would not meet him without Dumbledore's permission though, as only he would know if it were safe for Harry. Harry did reluctantly write to his Headmaster and got the response he expected. Dumbledore could not permit him to visit Dragon Alley, he had written, as he could not guarantee his safety. He had seemed truly sorry and reminded him that he would be seeing his friends shortly at Hogwarts. Harry had hoped that he would get out of Little Whining before the start of term, but had not really expected Dumbledore to answer any differently. He said as much in a friendly letter to Lupin. Shortly after he had written to his former teacher however, he received an Owl from his Headmaster. Dumbledore now told him that he could go provided certain safety measures were taken.

Certain that Lupin had interceded for him, Harry was reminded of the time Sirius had given him permission to visit Hogsmeade. He was deeply touched by Lupin's gesture. Harry had always liked Lupin, but now felt a surge of affection for his father's old friend. It was nice to have an adult looking out just for Harry and not just for his safety, or because they had to.

Looking around the pub, Harry wondered whom Dumbledore had sent besides Hagrid as his bodyguards. It was a difficult task, trying to find them. They were likely to be disguised or invisible. It was in his search that he noticed Hermione Granger standing in the entrance. She looked nearly the same as the last time Harry had seen her though he her hair was less frizzy. It was straighter and pulled back from her face. Harry decided it made her look older.

"Hermione, over here!"

She ran over and threw her arms around him. "It's so good to see you!" She then drew back looking at him closely. "Your scar – how long has it been like that?"

"Like what?" asked Harry curiously.

"Its much darker. You haven't noticed?"

"Not really," he replied. "I'm just glad it's not hurting so much."

Hermione eyed him thoughtfully. "Well I guess it might be nothing. Maybe you're just paler than before."

Harry shrugged. "Its funny you should mention it – Lupin something about it when he was here."

"I guess its bound to look different sometimes, especially now that Lord Voldemort's returned to form." She lowered her voice. "You haven't had anymore of those dreams have you?"

Harry reddened. He knew Hermione was referring to the dreams he had last year about the Department of Mysteries, but he could not help but think of the dreams he had had of using Crucio on Bellatrix Lestrange the night he had taken Lupin's potion. He often dwelt on those dreams, wishing he could somehow relive them. He looked at Hermione and shook his head.

She looked relieved. "Where's Ron? He should be here by now."

"He's probably just running late. Let's get some drinks, shall we?"

They sat down at a table enjoying their drinks. Ron, it seemed, was running quite late, so they had plenty of time to catch up. Harry told Hermione all about Lupin's visit and how he had stopped to talk to his Aunt. Hermione had no ideas about Lupin's contact with Petunia either. They mulled it over a bit and then turned to the most popular topic of the times, Percy Weasley.

Harry was stupefied that anyone would promote him to anything, especially when his original post had been such a disaster. "I just don't understand it!" He uttered.

"I don't either," Hermione agreed. "Originally we thought Fudge might be using him as a spy, but now Fudge seems to have come to his senses about Dumbledore."

"True. The biggest problem is that with popular opinion the way it is now, it looks pretty likely that Fudge will be booted out of office and soon!"

"It's a little exciting though isn't it? Someone we went to school with – in charge of the whole magical realm?" Hermione said somewhat breathlessly.

Harry stared at her. "Don't you remember what he did to his family last year? You really want him running the Ministry?"

"I know," Hermione said sheepishly. "Anyway I wonder what Ron thinks about it." She glared about. "Where is he anyway? He's holding us up!"

"He'll be here" Harry quickly interjected. He was anxious not to call any attention to Ron's absence. He had a nagging feeling that things were not all right between him and Ron. Ron had been slow to answer Harry's letters, but had appeared to accept his apologies. Even so, Harry felt very nervous about seeing him. He looked to Hermione to help break the ice.

"Oh there he is," Hermione exclaimed. "Ron! Ron! We're over here."

Harry looked towards the door. There stood his best friend Ron looking even taller than before. Trying to read his expression, Harry was unable to judge if he was glad to be there or not. Ron heard Hermione and started slowly towards them. He and Hermione hugged quickly and then Ron shook Harry's hand heartily. Together at last, the three friends whiled away an hour catching up on their holidays. Hermione was the only one with any proper stories. Harry's life was now too closely tied to Lord Voldemort to allow for much enjoyment and Ron's family now lived under the constant strain that came with the under cover work of The Order of the Phoenix. Hermione alone could speak of lazy summer picnics and long afternoons at adventure parks, as Lord Voldemort had not yet reached into the Muggle world.

Finally, Hermione decided it was high time they started their school shopping. She got up to let Hagrid know they would be heading into Diagon Alley. That Hagrid remained in the pub further alerted Harry to the fact that others were watching him unseen.

"Before we hit the book store, I fancy a quick look in Quality Quiddich supplies," said Ron with a smile. "I've got some extra pocket money."

Hermione raised an eyebrow.

"Now that Mum and Dad have only Ginny and me in school, they've got a little more money to give us. Plus Fred and George have been sending us some from time to time. But don't expect to get any discounts at their store."

"Well you shouldn't expect them – they are running a business" Hermione interjected in her superior tone.

Harry laughed, over eager to get along with Ron. "It's going to be great being back on the team. We're going to fantastic this year! Especially if you play like you did at your last match. Ginny's playing too, right?"

"It's a shame you didn't see the match though. I'm gonna be better this year now that I've got some experience under my belt. Let's see what's new in the shop."

Finally, Harry started to feel comfortable with Ron. They eagerly discussed their team's prospects as they walked. Hermione had little to add to their conversation but seemed used to it and looked up and down the alley and in all the windows as they passed. The street was bustling with wizards in the midst of all sorts of errands. Harry wondered if Hermione too were looking for Dumbledore's security measures.

They entered Quality Quiddich Shop and began looking around. The boys admired the newest brooms and picked out posters of their favorite players to purchase. Ron had his eye on a striped quiddich shirt and held it up to himself in the mirror a number of times.

"How do you reckon it would look on me?" He asked Harry but glanced over at Hermione.

"Hogwarts supplies quiddich jerseys." Hermione said matter of factly.

"But not like that one – not one that will make you look quite so stylish." Commented a familiar voice behind them.

Harry and Ron turned and their jaws dropped. Hermione also turned, but did not appear quite so surprised. Slouched in front of them, hand extended, stood Viktor Krum. Instead of his usual scowl, he seemed to be attempting a smile. Harry thought it looked even worse than the scowl. He, Harry, recovered first and shook Krum's hand. Hermione also said hello.

Ron continued to stare at him until he was finally able to stammer. "What are you doing here Krum? And why'd you stop playing for Bulgaria?"

"I come to Hogwarts to teach. I take over Madame Hooch's position." He stopped and scowled accentuating his large brow. "I remember vat your Headmaster say about Hogvarts finding us all a place and I am thinking now is time to leave Bulgaria."

"It'll be great having a pro working with the teams." Harry said enthusiastically. "Won't it Ron?"

Ron grumbled his assent.

"Hermy-own-ninny told me you von them the House Cup." Krum said to Ron.

"She did?" he answered with surprise. "Did she tell you about all those feints?"

Krum nodded. "She tells me you're a Prefect."

Ron reddened slightly, as did Hermione. At last Ron seemed to warm towards Krum. "Do you think you could show me the Wronski Feint?"

Krum nodded and pointed to Harry. "May I haff a vord vith you outside?"

Harry agreed and made for the door. Hermione stopped him. "I don't know if you should be away from us, Harry." She said nervously.

"Hermione, they're not watching us. Harry'll be fine."

Hermione had to agree with Ron. Harry and Krum stepped out into the street.

"I know vat happened to your friend Sirius," Krum blurted out.

Harry felt his mind shut down. He did not want to think of his loss, not now when he was having such a pleasant afternoon.

"I know vat you are feeling. I – I haff losses too. If you vant to talk you come to me. I am trainer but I vant to be friend," Krum said brusquely.

Harry was surprised he said as much as he did. Krum had not seemed able to express much in the past. Not as far as Harry could tell.

"Eh thanks – I'll do that" Harry replied. Thinking of Sirius changed Harry's mood rapidly. Why had Hermione and Ron not brought him up? Did they just think he would forget about Sirius? Is that what they wanted? Deep down Harry knew he was being irrational. If they had talked about Sirius he probably would have been irritated as well. He was having a great deal of difficulty processing his feelings about Sirius' death. Right now he needed a minute to himself. He asked Krum to let Ron and Hermione know he would meet them in Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"I'm being rude, I know," he told Krum. "I just need a moment to collect myself."

"This is vhy I tell you I know Harry. I vill make your excuses – your friends – they vill understand." Krum shuffled awkwardly as he said it.

Harry felt that he was asking a lot of Krum, but he had offered to help and seemed to have a sense of what Harry was going through. He watched Krum go up to Ron and Hermione who nodded their heads sadly. Harry started idly up the street with no real destination in mind. His mind reeled. He did not want to ruin Ron and Hermione's day out so he was quickly trying to sort his feelings out.

Passing by Madame Malkin Dress Robes for All Occasions, he saw a red glint. Curious, he backtracked to the shop to investigate. Peering in the front picture window, he found what had caught his eye. Standing upon a pedestal, being measured for robes, was Ginny Weasley. Her hair was a brilliant red and fell in long glossy locks to her waist. Harry's heart quickened for a moment, this was not Ginny the kid, he remembered, but a striking young woman who stood poised and confident. He walked through the door and approached Ginny, looking awkwardly up at her.

"Hi Harry," she said looking at him intently. Her eyes were like blue ice and Harry sensed a power in them that he had not remembered nor could name. Her gaze lingered on his scar making him feel uncomfortable. He thought she would question him about it as Lupin and Hermione had, but she said nothing.

"Getting new robes?" he asked her, feeling uneasy all of the sudden.

"Yes, I'm so tired of second – hand robes. I'm so glad to finally be getting new ones. Tonks is buying them for me for a back to school present."

Harry had not even noticed Tonks was with Ginny until now.

She bounded forward. "Wotcher Harry."

"Hi Tonks. Are you keeping an eye on the alley for us?"

"No – there's plenty of others doing it though – I'm just out shopping with Ginny before she goes back to school. I'm going to miss having her around you know. We can't wait until the first Hogsmeade weekend."

Tonks' breezy manner put Harry at ease with Ginny and they conversed about their summers. Harry was surprised at how much time Ginny and Tonks had been spending together. But then it made sense, thought Harry. Ginny probably did not want to spend all her time with her brothers. Last term she had had her share of admirers, but Harry never got the sense that Ginny really cared about any of them.

While they were talking Harry noticed Tonks staring at his scar as Ginny had done. A strange half-smile appeared on her lips. She dropped her gaze as soon as Harry looked over at her.

"So it'll be interesting taking Occlumency this year, won't it?" Ginny asked eagerly. "You and me – with Snape."

"What?" Harry was groping to comprehend what Ginny was referring to.

"Didn't anyone tell you?" Ginny asked uncertainly. "You and I are supposed to take Occlumency with Snape this term. Dumbledore asked my Dad if it was okay."

"I don't believe it!" declared Harry hotly. "Dumbledore already told me it was a mistake that he didn't teach me in the first place. Now he's not going to teach me or even tell me about it? I hate Snape!" He winced at the last statement, waiting for Tonks to correct him, but she said nothing. "When was he going to tell me? I can't take with him."

Now Ginny looked uncomfortable. "I really don't know Harry. My Dad asked me if I would mind studying with you. He said Dumbledore thought it would be helpful and I" she colored. "I wanted to help you if I could."

"I'm sending Dumbledore an OWL as soon as I get back to the Dursleys! I'm not taking from Snape."

"Don't write to Dumbledore" Tonks interjected.

Ginny and Harry both looked at her quizzically.

"I just don't think that'll help," she added mildly.

"Think about it – you wrote to him about coming here and he said no. Go to Remus Lupin. He got you here, didn't he? Dumbledore's more likely to listen to him than a sixteen-year-old is, isn't he? Lupin thinks a lot of you, he's not going to want you stuck in a miserable situation."

Harry considered Tonk's words. He thought that she might be correct, but the way she had calculated it out made Harry feel a little squeamish. Going to Lupin now would seem like using him and that's not what Harry wanted to do.

"I'll think about it. We'll be back at school soon enough anyway." he told Tonks. "I had better go though. I still haven't gotten my books and I have to meet up with Ron and Hermione at your brothers' shop."

"I'll come with you. I need to get my books as well." Ginny stepped down and took her folded robes from the clerk.

Oddly enough, Harry was now glad of the company. Just a short while ago he had desperately needed to be alone.

"Are you coming Tonks?" Ginny asked.

"No, I'll see you back at headquarters."

Harry and Ginny walked out of the shop together. Harry was still slightly taken aback by the change in Ginny and he was not alone. Harry noticed several other boys looking in her direction.

They purchased their books in Flourish and Blotts. Harry was buying all new books, but Ginny had inherited a lot of books from her brothers. She only had to buy a few. Choosing two second-hand books, she slipped them under a brand new copy of Intermediate Defense Against the Dark Arts.

Soon they were both ready to head to Fred and George's new shop. It was a short distance, but Harry found himself walking rather slowly. He could not decide if it was because he was reluctant to leave Diagon Alley or because he wanted to spend more time with Ginny whom he now felt quite comfortable speaking with. Neither he nor Hermione had brought up the subject of Percy's promotion with Ron. They were not sure how he would react. Harry decided to ask Ginny about it.

"Well I never thought I'd want Fudge to stay in office – but if Percy's the other choice…" she frowned.

"You don't think Percy would step up if he had to?" Harry asked her curiously.

Ginny stopped walking. Nervously, she glanced around. An ugly look twisted her lovely features. "I guess that would depend on who asked him to" she said darkly but barely above a whisper. Not even glancing at Harry, she quickly continued forward.

Harry was stunned. What was she implying? He had to jog to catch up with her. Opening his mouth to ask for clarification, he noticed a steely glint in her eyes. He did not pursue it.

"Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes" she said matter of factly when they reached her brothers' storefront.

Inside they could see a large assembly of people including most of the Weasley family.

As soon as they entered Mrs. Weasley descended upon them.

"Harry how are you? You look so thin! We need to get you fed up." She put an arm around him and the other around Ginny. "New robes?" she exclaimed with a frown. "You know we don't have money for that!"

"They're a present from Fred and George" Ginny asked innocently.

Unconsciously, Harry raised an eyebrow. Why was she lying about the robes? Why didn't she just say they were from Tonks? He remained quiet.

Mrs. Weasley smiled indulgently. "Well…I guess there isn't much I can do if those two," she pointed to Fred and George who were arguing over the price of an item with Ron "want to spoil their baby sister."

Smiling sweetly, Ginny winked at Harry.

Everyone was eager to look around the twins' new shop, but before they knew it Hagrid had appeared signaling that it was time to head back to the Dursleys. Nobody seemed to feel too badly about parting however. The term was starting in a few days time and they would all be back at Hogwarts. Harry said good-bye to everyone, thanking Ron and Hermione for their friendship, and received a large kiss from Mrs. Weasley.

"Come on, Harry" Hagrid coaxed. "Yeh won't want me gettin' in trouble for takin' yeh back after the appointed time. Think o' what Mad Eye would say."

Harry snickered imagining precisely what Mad Eye would say about it. He followed Hagrid as he lumbered down the street. And then, because he needed one last look at everyone, turned back towards the shop. Only one figure was visible, Ginny. She was standing in the front door watching him leave. Her fair features and red hair were distorted enchantingly by the frosted glass. Harry lingered a moment, smiling gently at the girl, then turned back towards Hagrid. As he made his way out of the Alley his only thoughts were on his return to school and the number of days he had left to spend with his Uncle Vernon and his prison – like house.


	7. Chapter Seven

Author's Note: Next Friday there will be some major back-story on Snape. I hope you read it!

Chapter Seven

Albus Dumbledore moved away from the Pensieve shaking his head. How was it possible that Percy Weasley had completed seven years at Hogwarts, and he, Dumbledore had virtually no memory of him? He had been a Prefect, Head Boy, yet the only impression Dumbledore had of him was that of an unremarkable but very ambitious boy.

"Far too little information". He thought. "To base any strategy on".

Members of the Order of the Phoenix would be meeting this evening to help formulate plans for the new administration. The head of the Order had hoped to be able to add some insight, but now realized he would be unable to.

Wearily, Dumbledore rose. Tomorrow was the start of the new term, but for the first time in many years, Dumbledore was not looking forward to it. It was difficult running a school in times of crisis. All too well he remembered the last time Voldemort had come to power. He knew what would be coming soon.

Most troubling of all however, was the situation with Harry Potter. Thinking about it made Dumbledore feel very old indeed. The powerful wizard had not anticipated seventeen years ago just how difficult his plan would prove to be.

"He will hate me." Dumbledore had realized at the time.

Yet the wise man could see no other real alternative. He had steeled himself to do what had to be done. Now that he could see the Potter boy hurting however, well now it was a different matter. Dumbledore felt like he would do anything to lessen Harry's pain-anything but the one thing likely to abate it. He could not abandon his plan- not even for Harry.

Tomorrow, Harry would return to Hogwarts, but Dumbledore sensed that things between them would never be the same. He planned to speak with the teenager, had rehearsed various scenarios in his mind. Still, the wise wizard could not find the words he needed to communicate.

"It's too early". He lamented to himself. "Far too early in the plan for Harry Potter not to trust me."

He found himself pacing about the room with his hands folded behind his back. His mind was busy with the Order, Harry Potter, Hogwarts, and a thousand other things. Pausing at the window, he glanced over the castle grounds. A large figure was sprinting in his direction. It was his gamekeeper Hagrid, carrying his large crossbow. The boarhound, Fang followed in hot pursuit. Dumbledore immediately sprang into action. He had sent Hagrid into the forest a short time ago. Something was very wrong.

Running out of his office, he came across Professor McGonagall hanging announcements on a bulletin board. She looked up in alarm.

"Minerva, come quickly! I may need you!"

McGonagall stopped what she was doing and followed Dumbledore out to the grounds.

"Professor, Someone's bin in the Forbiddin' Forest!" Hagrid called out breathlessly.

"Is everything secure?" Dumbledore asked anxiously.

"Aye-but some o' my creatures bin kilt"

"Oh no," McGonagall uttered softly.

The three rushed towards the woods. Dumbledore and McGonagall held their wands at the ready position.

"Do you think they've gone, Hagrid?" Asked Dumbledore.

"Me n' Fang –we looked everywhere- but we found naught."

They ran through the forest seeing no indications of intruders. They were close to giving up when Fang sniffed out some swatches of black fabric. Dumbledore carefully lifted it off the thorns on which it had snagged. Holding it up, the three investigated it.

"Death Eaters, Albus?" McGonagall asked anxiously.

"I'm afraid so," Dumbledore replied gravely. "It's going to be much harder now to keep this area guarded."

"Grawpy can help" Hagrid suggested hopefully. He was referring to his half-brother, the giant, who now resided in the forest.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore answered absently. He suddenly felt very far removed from McGonagall and Hagrid. Staring at the horizon, he continued in an almost wistful tone. "It will not be for much longer. Indeed, the time draws near. I can feel it."

Her eyes filling, McGonagall turned away from Dumbledore. Hagrid appeared grim.

"Now, now" Dumbledore began, his usual jovial tone returned. "We can all be glad nothing's gone too far amiss today. Hot chocolates all around!"

Hagrid indicated that he would prefer to stay in the forest to care for the creatures that were injured by the mysterious interlopers.

"Ah well, hot cocoa to go then." With a flick of Dumbledore's wand, a mug of steaming hot chocolate zoomed towards them from the castle.

"Ta, Professor."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as he turned to McGonagall. "Minerva, still glum? Extra marshmallows for you –and I shan't take no for an answer!"

Seemingly won over in spite of herself, McGonagall managed a smile and strolled back to the castle with the Headmaster. After their cocoas, however, it was time for the meeting and they walked to Dumbledore's office to find the group already assembled.

Dumbledore surveyed the group. All had taken seats except for Alastor Moody who was standing by his desk staring fixedly across the room. Following his gaze, Dumbledore found Snape sitting stiffly in a high-backed chair, his long fingers moving nervously. Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt sat near each other engaged in friendly conversation.

"Thank you all for coming," he said pulling out a chair for the transfiguration teacher. He looked over at his gnarled friend Moody. "Alastor, please find a seat. You are making me nervous."

"There's no reason _**you** _should be nervous." Moody growled.

"Glad to hear it," Dumbledore remarked lightly. "Now we are meeting here instead of Headquarters so that we can discuss the Percy Weasley situation a little more objectively. Arthur and Molly may not be able to see things as clearly given the circumstances."

There were nods from the group.

Smiling, Dumbledore continued. "Also. I have to say it's quite convenient –as most of us are on staff here now."

Shacklebolt laughed deeply.

"And now to business. Severus, if you will please enlighten us as to why Minister Fudge chose not to follow my well intentioned advice."

Snape rose looking rather pleased with himself. "Gladly, Headmaster. The Dark Lord discovered Fudge's plans to resign and appoint a successor…"

A loud snort interrupted Snape's speech. "And how did he discover that, may I ask?" Moody demanded.

Snape tensed visibly as he eyed Moody. Finally he arched his eyebrows. "He found out from me."

Before Moody could respond, Dumbledore broke in. "Alastor it really does not matter how he knew. It is understood that some information must pass between the two. Otherwise, Severus's work would be useless."

Moody quieted, but continued to eye Snape with obvious suspicion.

"The Dark Lord then summoned some of his Death Eaters to speak to Fudge about Percy Weasley."

"It's a wonder he didn't send them to kill Fudge." Shacklebolt commented.

Snape shook his head. "The Dark Lord does not want Fudge out of office. He feels comfortable with him. Feels he can manipulate him through Lucius Malfoy. The Dark Lord prefers that Fudge stay in office, but if he's out of office he wants to be certain that someone such as Dumbledore…"

"Or Arthur Weasley" interjected Dumbledore pleasantly.

"Yes-that no one like that would be placed in office." Snape agreed.

"And our fine Minister agreed to this plan? How inspiring." McGonagall commented sarcastically.

"He hardly had a choice, Minerva." Snape said turning to her.

"There was nothing you could do to stop it?" Dumbledore asked sadly.

"It was all I could do to keep the fool from getting hurt." Snape countered. " And he has no convictions. I'm frankly surprised he hasn't resigned yet."

"And what will happen to Fudge, I wonder, " pondered Lupin. "If he does resign?"

"He'll be killed of course." Snape answered abruptly. "The Dark Lord can not risk him talking about Malfoy."

Dumbledore looked up in alarm. "Is Fudge aware of this?"

"If he has any sense at all, he is. I assumed that is why he has not yet left office." Snape answered rather coldly.

Snatching a piece of parchment, Dumbledore hastily scribbled a note while the others murmured anxiously.

There was a knock at the door and Dobby the House Elf appeared

"Dobby" Dumbledore called somberly. "I have urgent work for you. Take this not straight to the Owlery and give it to one of our best owls. Tell that owl that he must deliver this message to Minister Fudge personally, no matter what. Dobby this is life or death."

Dobby nodded gravely.

"Then you may inform the other House Elves that a room must be made readied. Minister Fudge will undoubtedly be staying with us for a time."

Taking the note from Dumbledore, he disappeared.

Dumbledore considered his informant. "Now please tell me, why Percy Weasley?"

Snape shrugged. "He's young, uncontroversial, someone Fudge wouldn't be likely to oppose."

"Another puppet for Voldemort." Moody added.

"It would seem so." Snape agreed.

"What do we know about Percy?" Dumbledore asked, looking at each member in turn. He regretted that he, himself, had nothing to add.

"There was that bad falling out with his family." Shacklebolt remarked.

"Yes, I do find that troubling," Dumbledore mused. "But it may have been more of a family issue than anything else. He was in your House, Minerva. What do you recall?"

McGonagall hesitated before answering as if to be certain her words were strictly accurate. "He was a model student. Never gave me any problems. He seemed self-motivated. Took his responsibility seriously- unlike some other Prefects I could name. I never thought he was especially talented however. I remember being surprised at the number of OWLS he received."

Snape made a movement from his chair.

Dumbledore noticed and turned his attention to him. "Is there something you are not telling me, Severus?"

"Rumors, only rumors, Sir. But some believe Percy has been in with Lucius Malfoy. I personally have seen no evidence of it."

There were murmurs from all sides. Dumbledore felt his heart sink. Could Percy Weasley already be working for the other side?

No one else seemed able to add anything one way or the other.

"If we have no evidence to the contrary," Dumbledore began heavily. "I think we have to assume that Percy is not a supporter of Voldemort. Nonetheless, I am very concerned as he is in such a vulnerable position. We must make every effort to bring him firmly over to our side."

"Couldn't Arthur speak to him?" Shacklebolt asked.

"Doubtful", Moody grumbled. "Molly tried to speak with him last year. He slammed the door in her face. There's no one in that family he's going to listen to."

"He wrote to Ron last year." Lupin ventured mildly.

Five heads swiveled around to look at him.

"Tonks told me." Lupin explained. "She always takes an interest in the kids and I guess one of them told her. I don't know if Ron ever responded."

Dumbledore started, suddenly aware of Tonk's absence. "Where is Miss Tonks? She was supposed to be here was she not?" Looking around, he saw only shrugs from his fellow members. "A shame. I've heard so many good things about her- and yet I've only met her the once."

Shifting in his chair, Lupin suddenly appeared uncomfortable. "I think she sent an OWL, or meant to. There was a conflict or something."

McGonagall and Dumbledore exchanged surreptitious smiles. Lupin, however, may have noticed as he colored slightly clearing his throat.

"I'll take Ron Weasley aside." McGonagall announced. "If he's the only family member Percy will speak to, it'll have to be him."

With the agenda met, the meeting began to break up. Lupin was the first to leave, quietly retiring to his rooms. Shacklebolt also left, presumably for other duties.

Dumbledore, Moody, and McGonagall stood together in the middle of the room conversing about topics covered during the meeting. Snape stood alone and unnoticed in a corner of the office. An unpleasant scowl played on his face as he watched the three wizards.

Moody held up the middle section of The_ Daily Prophet_. "Have you seen this, Albus? Some mighty funny deaths."

Nodding, McGonagall continued in a low tone. "It's the same in the Muggle papers- a lot of unexplained disappearances."

Opening his mouth to comment, Dumbledore was cut off by an almost sinister voice from across the room.

"The Dark Initiations," Snape said in a sepulchral tone.

All three snapped around to see the Potions Master. His eyes were unnaturally wide and black, like two dark tunnels.

"They begin anew." He continued in the same dark tone, apparently unaware of his colleagues' stares.

With a pang, Dumbledore noted an odd shiver pass over Snape. Then he knew, with a dread certainty, that Severus would not be in his rooms this night- knew that he would be groping through the darkened corridors of the castle once more-unable to flee the torments of his past.


	8. Chapter Eight

Author's Note: This is one of my favorite chapters! Any feedback would be appreciated!

Chapter Eight

Snape pushed past the other members of the Order, his black robes billowing behind him. Rushing blindly down the halls, intent only on getting to his chambers, it felt as if he were being chased by some unformed specter. And his pursuer was relentless- the moment he stopped moving he knew it would bear down on him. Every memory he tried to block out, every image he tried to hide from would come flooding through his mind like a constantly looping tape.

There were soft, quickening footsteps behind him. "Severus, wait! Please!"

Although he was certain it was Dumbledore, Snape refused to stop. If he did, he feared he would be completely overwhelmed by his anguish. Reaching for his wand, he unlocked the door of his chambers and stumbled in. The door slammed shut behind him as he fell into a chair. Snape stared ahead into the empty fireplace. Without a fire it was cold in his rooms, but the Potions Master did not shiver from chill.

"The Dark Initiations," he whispered to himself. He had known they would occur, had even heard them planned at Death Eater meetings. Yet now that he was actually confronted with them, he found himself unable to deal with his own emotions. An icy fist squeezed his chest. His breathing became shallow as his mind went back not to his own Dark Initiation, but to that of his parents'.

The man remembered it as clearly as if it had happened last week even though it took place many years before- the summer before his second year at Hogwarts.

_It had been a pleasant day- sunny, warm – a fine day for any number of summer activities. But young Snape was not outdoors like his older brother; he remained in the house. His parents, who rarely uttered a civil word between them, had spent the past couple of weeks conversing frantically in hushed tones. Snape was eager to discover the cause of the change. Typically, his parents seemed unaware of his presence as he lurked in empty rooms and quiet corners._

_Both mother and father continued pacing and whispering throughout the day. His mother looked drawn and his father appeared not to have slept in several nights. Snape tried to overhear their conversations, but could discern very little._

"_Sebastian," his father would murmur from time to time in a low voice while his mother peered anxiously out the window._

_His own name was never mentioned. This was hardly surprising. Although his parents paid little heed to either boy, Snape's older brother was definitely closer to what they likely hoped their son would be. Sebastian was popular, an exceptional student, and probably the best looking member of the family. By contrast, Snape was a scrawny kid who kept to himself. Young Severus was fond of his older brother however. At school, he counted Sebastian as his only friend._

_No evening meal was served that night. Sebastian came inside briefly, but apparently sensing the mood in the house, retreated back out to the grounds. He encouraged his younger brother to do the same. Snape had no intention of leaving until he knew exactly what was going on._

_Shortly after, a rap sounded at the door. His parents ceased speaking and stared at each other. Snape sat coiled nervously. The door opened to reveal a man such as Snape had never seen before. The visitor wore a long, hooded cloak. Squinting to see, the boy gazed upon a face as white and cold as marble. The stranger's lip was twisted and his eyes… Snape felt a cold dread. He could not bring himself to meet those eyes. The visitor emanated an icy aura. The child was terrified._

"_My Lord," his parents said bowing._

_Snape was baffled. Who was this hideous man? Why were his parents bowing to him? They looked as scared as he felt._

"_Lord. Yes, we shall see this evening if you have any right to address me as such." The visitor's voice was cold. "If you show me loyalty, I shall give you power."_

_Silently creeping upstairs to his bedroom, young Snape made his escape. He leaned out the door straining to hear what was transpiring. He could hear very little. Feeling his heart race, he wondered what was going on downstairs. Who was that terrible man and what did he want from his parents?_

_It was not long before he heard his mother calling him back downstairs in an odd tone. Snape knew better than to disobey his parents, but he dared not go anywhere near the strange man. His mother called him again more urgently. Aware that his parents were alone with the visitor, Snape became concerned. Walking slowly down the staircase, he met his mother._

_Much to Snape's surprise, she reached out and took his hand. Surveying the room, Snape noted that his father seemed unwilling to look at him. The tall stranger, however, was watching him carefully, almost appraisingly. A chair had been set in the center of the room. Confused, Snape hesitated. He wondered what was going on. He looked up to his mother who met his gaze with a soft expression. She squeezed his hand. Calmed, Snape allowed her to lead him to the middle of the room. He sat down waiting for his mother to tell him what was coming next. _

_She knelt in front of him and gently stroked his cheek. The boy felt a warm glow inside. Neither one of his parents had ever been affectionate with him and he did not know until now how much he craved the attention. He smiled at her._

_She slowly rose and took a step back. The minute she did, his father snapped his wand and muttered an incantation. Snape found himself suddenly bound in the chair. He struggled to free himself, sensing great danger. The tall stranger laughed at his struggles. It was a laugh that Snape knew he would never forget, high-pitched and cruel._

"_As a symbol of our faithfulness," his father intoned. "We sacrifice our son."_

_Young Snape felt as if all the air had been sucked out of his lungs. He no longer needed to ask what was going on. With his knowledge of Dark magic, it was easy to conclude that he was to be the sacrifice of his own parents' Dark Ritual. Desperately he tried to scream, but all that came out was a throaty gasp. Tossing his head wildly, he frantically tried any movement, which might extricate him from the chair._

_His eyes sought out his mother silently beseeching her to change her mind. Her gentle expression was gone, replaced by a hard look. She met his eyes without flinching and pointed a steady wand at him. His father did the same. The young boy squeezed his eyes shut and braced himself for the deadly curse. It never came._

"_Do you think the Dark Lord a fool?" The stranger demanded._

"_N-n-n-no, my Lord, of course not," responded the child's father._

"_Then you intend to insult me!"_

"_My Lord, no," his mother said bowing. " We are prepared to sacrifice our son to be counted amongst your closest followers."_

_The stranger pointed his wand at Snape with obvious disdain. "That child is no sacrifice. Do you think I know nothing of your pathetic family? Where is the older boy?"_

_His mother screamed as if struck. "Not Sebastian!" She threw herself at the visitor's feet. "My Lord, I implore you, not Sebastian."_

_Snape quickly realized that the stranger had magically freed him from his bonds. Vainly he tried to run away, but his legs were too weak. He fell to the floor. Crawling over to the wall, he flattened himself into a corner. Numb with fear and shock, he listened to his mother's wails._

_His father, too, was visibly upset. "Sebastian has far more potential than Severus. He will grow to be one of your greatest followers."_

"_You lie." The man hissed. "You are thinking only of yourselves, not of the Dark Lord's future."_

"_We'll do anything you want," his father pleaded. "We want to show you that we are worthy, but please don't make us take Sebastian."_

"_This is very disappointing. I am beginning to think that this evening is a waste of my time," the visitor began. "And I have so many demands upon my time. I really cannot afford to spend a night at leisure- especially in the company of unfaithful servants." He flicked his wand and the boy's mother was propelled into the chair where he had just been. "Perhaps I may need to teach a lesson to my less than loyal followers."_

"_No, my Lord. We desire only to do your bidding." His father pulled his wife out of the chair. "We will do as you ask."_

_Hand in hand, the couple walked to the window, presumably to call in their eldest son. Snape remained in the corner. He wanted to run out and warn his brother, but he was paralyzed with fear. He could not believe that his parents intended to do this man's evil bidding. They were both sobbing._

_His mother attempted to call for Sebastian, but her voice was too affected to be audible._

_His father called over her. "Sebastian, son, come in. We need you."_

_A tense silence settled on the house as they waited for Sebastian. Snape looked out warily from his corner. The stranger wore an almost bemused expression and twirled his wand idly. Tearfully, his parents waited at the door._

_Snape felt in his robes for his own wand. He could not simply cower here as his brother was killed in a Dark Ritual. Yet he did not know what he could possibly do. He, himself, had narrowly escaped death at his parents' wands just minutes ago. And this malevolent stranger clearly would ensure that the sacrifice would happen at any cost. Young Snape ran through things quickly in his mind. He was out-numbered and over-powered. There was probably nothing he could do._

_After what seemed an eternity, Sebastian casually walked through the front door. Presumably his instincts were better than Snape's, as he quickly surveyed the room and began to back away. All the color drained from his face as he looked upon Snape lying in a heap on the floor. The older boy hesitated._

_Snape saw his parents move in towards his brother. He stumbled to his feet. "Sebastian!" He yelled. "Get out now!"_

_Snape's father hexed him and he fell into the wall hard. He could feel a gash open up on his cheek. As he gingerly lifted his fingers to the cut, he became aware, again of the stranger laughing at him. Snape gritted his teeth._

_Meanwhile, his father was strong-arming his son into the chair._

_Sebastian was sobbing. "Mum! Dad! What are you doing? What did I do?"_

"_Sebastian. Please be quiet." His mother implored in a hushed tone. "We are all in great peril."_

_The boy quieted for a moment. Just long enough for his father to magically fasten him into the chair. Panicked, Sebastian screamed desperately for anyone to help him. _

_Snape could not bear it. He crammed his fingers into his ears trying to block out the sound of his brother's screams. His cheek was bleeding badly and was starting to soak into his robes._

_The tall stranger smiled his terrible twisted smile as both parents shakily pointed their wands at Sebastian._

"_Avada Kedavra," they muttered in chorus._

_Snape watched in utter horror as two green streaks of light struck his brother rendering him limp and lifeless in his seat. Young Severus felt physically ill. He could not believe what he had just witnessed and he dreaded what might be coming next. Trembling, he pressed himself further into the wall and began to weep._

_No sooner had the curse been cast however, then strange things began to happen. The air suddenly seemed full of raw energy. It was as if it had been electrically charged. The visitor stretched out both of his arms as if to absorb every atom of it._

_He smiled triumphantly at Snape's parents and cried out, "Every curse uttered in my name gives me ever greater power!"_

_Snape's parents had instantly stopped crying. They appeared strangely excited, their faces flushed. His father appeared taller, his mother less drawn. They were looking at each other intently almost as if they were the only two people in the room. As if they had nothing to do with the dead boy bound to a chair, or the injured one crying in the corner._

"_I feel as if I could do anything now," his father exclaimed, a note of wonder apparent in his tone._

"_You have passed the test. You are now my faithful servants with powers only I can give you." The stranger put his wand back inside his robes and walked to the door. Snape looked up and for a minute their eyes met._

"_Do you know who I am?" The visitor asked him._

_The boy gave no answer, but stiffened and squeezed his eyes shut. Snape then felt himself being pulled to his feet. Opening his eyes, Severus found himself face to face with the terrifying man._

"_I am Lord Voldemort." He breathed. "The all-powerful."_

_The child shuddered in Lord Voldemort's icy grasp._

"_Those people," Voldemort began pointing to Snape's parents, "are no longer your parents. They are my children now."_

_Looking past Lord Voldemort, Snape spied his parents. They appeared excited and pleased with themselves. Snape was disgusted. With a spasm of fresh pain, his eyes found his brother's body still limp in the chair he had died in._

"_Ah yes, Severus," Lord Voldemort whispered very close to his ear. He gently turned the child's chin back to face him. _

_Still grasping Snape's shoulder, Voldemort stared intently into the boy's eyes. Snape had never experienced such a gaze. He felt as if Voldemort were looking right through him. He waited with unbidden anticipation for Voldemort to speak again._

"_You will remember what you are feeling tonight," he uttered softly. "And you will use those feelings one day to become a far more powerful wizard than you ever possibly could have been."_

Snape flinched. How many times must he relive that scene? Restless and knowing he would find no sleep, he made his way out to the darkened corridors. It would be a difficult night. Tomorrow marked the start of the new school term. There were many responsibilities that the Head of House needed to see to. Snape could not attend to them now. He could still hear Lord Voldemort's words to him ringing in his ears. Most disturbing of all, however, was how prophetic they had proven to be.


	9. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

"What time are they coming for you then?" Uncle Vernon demanded.

"They didn't say," replied Harry.

He was sitting on his school trunk in the entranceway. Yesterday, Professor McGonagall had sent him an OWL informing him that someone else would be meeting him to take him to the train. Harry assumed it would be Hagrid. He wondered whether his aunt and uncle had refused to take him or if someone decided it at the school.

"They'll be late, no doubt." Muttered his uncle.

His cousin Dudley snickered from his customary seat in front of the television.

Secretly, Harry had to agree. If Hagrid was coming they ought to have left by now. Glancing down at his trunk, Harry found himself wishing he were allowed to do magic at home. Several of his socks had no mates and a simple spell would reveal their hiding places. What really bothered him though was the fact that he had inexplicably misplaced his picture of Sirius. As hard as he tried, Harry could not figure out where it had gone. He sighed. He had other pictures of his godfather, but this one was specifically given to him by Lupin. He hated to leave it behind.

"Perhaps we're taking the Knight bus," Harry mused to himself. That would explain the delay. As if to confirm his suspicions, a screech of brakes was heard outside.

Vernon darted over to the window. He seemed slightly relieved, but very confused. "Petunia," he called. "Is Mrs. Figg driving the boy?"

Harry was astonished. Surely not Mrs. Figg. He peeked out the front door. In front of the house, about two feet from the curb, was the tiniest car Harry had ever laid eyes on. The driver was none other than his batty neighbor Mrs. Figg. In all his years at Privet Drive, Harry had never seen a car in her driveway. He was frankly shocked that she even knew how to drive. He had always encountered her on foot in the neighborhood.

"All right then boy. Out you go."

Struggling with his trunk and Hedwig's cage, Harry started out. His uncle and cousin watched curiously, perhaps just as surprised as Harry to see Mrs. Figg behind the wheel. Just then they spotted a gray figure unfolding himself from the backseat of the car. Harry knew it was Lupin.

"Dudley! Help him with his stuff!" Vernon called sharply.

"What? Let him get his own stuff!" Dudley whined.

"Son, I said take his stuff!"

Dudley stormed over to Harry and hoisted up his trunk easily on his square shoulders. With his other hand he snatched the birdcage. Empty-handed, Harry followed his cousin down the driveway.

"You must be Dudley." Lupin said pleasantly.

Dudley grunted and unceremoniously dropped the trunk at Lupin's feet. He turned and headed back into the house, closing the door behind him.

"Sorry about that," Harry offered. "Well you know how they are."

"Yes, I do know how they are," Lupin said slowly casting his glance towards the upper story windows. "Anyway, it's time we got you to the train. Mrs. Figg has kindly offered to give us a lift."

Harry eyed the car doubtfully. "Is it enchanted?" He asked.

He did not see how they were going to manage. Mrs. Figg was in the driver's seat while her cat Mr.Tibbles curled up next to her in the passenger's seat. The trunk looked just large enough to hold a spare tire. Harry could not see where he or his things could possibly go.

"No, it's thoroughly Muggle," Lupin answered cheerfully.

He opened the trunk and tried to pack Harry's things into it. They would not fit. After several attempts at making it fit, Lupin had to give up. He magically fastened the trunk onto the roof. They set Hedwig free and Lupin attached her cage to the back of the car. Harry frowned. If possible, the car looked even more ridiculous. He wished they had taken the Knight bus.

Lupin and Harry clambered into the car. They sat crammed together like sardines in the backseat. Mr. Tibbles sighed and stretched himself out in the front seat.

"Hullo Harry," Mrs. Figg called back to him. How do you like our wheels? Mundungus got them for us."

Harry glanced sideways at Lupin and noted a slight frown. "He's probably thinking what I'm thinking." Harry decided to himself. If the car was from Mundungus Fletcher it was likely to be in disrepair and quite possibly stolen.

Mrs. Figg peeled away from the curb knocking Harry into Lupin. She sped through the stop sign on the corner.

"When did they put that there?" She demanded from Harry.

"Erm, I think it's been there for like fifteen years." Sixteen years was probably closer to the truth.

They were now weaving dangerously through traffic. Mrs. Figg seemed disinclined to use turn signals or even brakes.

Lupin was looking slightly green. "It's been a while since I've ridden in one of theses," he confessed to Harry. "I guess I've forgotten how dangerous they are. Not that I'm worried Arabella, I know Muggles restrict driving privileges. I know they are very responsible about testing people and such."

Mrs. Figg snorted. "Oh Remus- it's not like apparating. It's just driving."

She does not have a license. Harry suddenly realized with horror. He could not believe that anyone thought this was the safest way to get him into London. He and Lupin fell into the side of the car as she took a sharp turn.

"Take this," she said turning full around to Harry.

"Ah Mrs. Figg- the road!" Harry murmured nervously.

"Oh for Heaven's Sake. It's fine. The other cars are watching." She handed Harry what felt like a brick wrapped in paper. To his great relief, she returned her line of vision to the roadways. "Give that to Remus. It's a cake I baked for him."

Harry took the parcel and passed it over to an eager Lupin.

"Now see that Harry- you can't get better service anywhere." He said.

Harry thought they could. He felt they could get much better service on the Knight Bus for just eleven sickles apiece.

Miraculously, they arrived at Kings Crossing Station without incident. Lupin and Harry collected their things and headed into the station.

"Now I won't be taking the train." Lupin explained. "I have some business in London."

Harry wondered if he was going to Grimmauld Place.

"But Tonks will be riding," he continued. "Though you probably will not recognize her."

Harry made a mental note not to speak to freely on the train. Although Tonks was a friend, and a member of the Order, Harry would not want to her to overhear anything too personal.

Discreetly they moved through the barrier to Platform 9 ¾. The platform was bustling with families saying goodbye to each other. Harry really missed having parents at times like these. He wistfully watched mothers and fathers hugging their children, giving them last minute advice or warnings, and doling out money for lunch on the train. Harry knew he would never have any of this. Sensing his teacher's gaze upon him, the teenager forced a smile.

The pair stood awkwardly in front of the train. Neither one seemed to know what to say. Finally, the bell rang signaling boarding time.

"I'll see you at the feast." Lupin said cheerfully.

Nodding, Harry lined up to board the train.

"Harry wait," Lupin called, beckoning him back. He dug deeply into his pockets and pulled out a small handful of wizard coins. Counting out several knuts, he pressed them into Harry's hand. "Buy yourself a treat on the train."

Harry did not know what to say. He hated to take Lupin's money, and Lupin must certainly know that Harry had plenty of his own money to buy treats with. It was a gesture, a kind one. Looking up into Lupin's drawn face, Harry saw a smile. He did not have the heart to refuse the money.

"Thanks, Professor" he said gratefully, vowing to sneak the money back to Lupin somehow.

Boarding the Hogwarts Express, he found an empty compartment and sat down. He would be spending most of the journey alone as Ron and Hermione were both riding in the Prefect's compartment. As the train left the platform, he began to feel quite drowsy. His first instinct was to fight it. He did not want to leave his mind open to Lord Voldemort. But he found he was quite knackered and unable to stay awake any longer. He fell fast asleep, his head leaning on a train window. Harry experienced an odd dream with visions of a chamber, a statue of Salazar Slytheran, and a teenage Tom Riddle. Waking with a start, he found Ginny sitting opposite him in the compartment.

"Are you alright, Harry?" She asked concernedly.

"Yeah. Why?" Harry replied absently. His mind was back on the dream he had just had. Had it just been a dream or was it something else?

"You look a bit upset."

"Oh it's nothing. Just a bad dream."

"I hate them." Ginny commiserated, her tone implying that she too was well acquainted with them.

"What are you doing here? I thought you'd be… I thought you…" The teenager broke off, coloring.

Ginny smiled. "You thought I was a Prefect? Well McGonagall did send me the badge, but I sent it back."

Harry was astounded. He simply could not fathom refusing such an honor. In fact, the point that Harry was not selected as one himself was still a bit of a sore spot for Harry. Yet, Harry knew what Prefect meant to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

"Why Ginny?"

Tossing her mane of red hair, the girl shrugged. "I just don't care about it. Nor do I want the extra work."

"Aren't your parents disappointed?"

Ginny appeared unconcerned. "They don't know about it."

Presently a sixth year student from Ravenclaw interrupted them. "We're almost there Ginny." He said. "Can I help you with your things?"

"Sure," said Ginny rising. "I'll see you around Harry."

Later that evening, he found a seat next to Ron at the feast. "I don't know what we've done." Ron started. "But McGonagall wants to see us in her office right after the feast. Did you get into trouble on the train?"

Harry shook his head.

"Well she didn't look happy."

Frowning, Harry attended his supper. A summons to his Head of House did not bode well. He paid little attention to the speeches as he worried about what might transpire. He also knew that he could rely on Hermione for any important information anyway.

When the feast was over, he and Ron reported to McGonagall's office. Ron seemed particularly anxious about being disciplined even though he and Harry had caused their share of trouble during their time at Hogwarts. When their Head of House entered the room, however, she immediately rounded on Harry.

"What is the meaning of this?" She demanded, holding up a letter.

Inwardly Harry groaned. He knew the letter, but did not want to discuss it in front of Ron. He chewed his lip nervously. "Yes, Professor. I sent that OWL because I wanted to drop Potions from my schedule."

"I can read that, Potter!" She replied irritably. "What I do not understand is why."

Harry squirmed, feeling extremely uncomfortable. In truth, he had asked McGonagall to drop him out of Potions because he could not stand the thought of taking class with Snape, especially now that he had learned that he would also be taking Occlumency with him. But he knew that this would not be an acceptable excuse.

"I thought you wanted to be an Auror." His teacher pressed.

Harry nodded. He could sense Ron's gaze on him and prayed that McGonagall would not take it any further. Ron had also wanted to be an Auror, but like Harry had not scored well enough on the OWLS to be admitted into Snape's NEWT level class. No special exception had been made for Ron however, only Harry.

"You told me you wanted to be an Auror and I stood here and pledged to that horrible Umbridge woman that you would be one." She continued angrily.

Clearly, Professor McGonagall had no intention of letting this drop as she seemed to feel that she had staked her own reputation on it.

Harry sighed. "I changed my mind. I don't want to be an Auror anymore, Ma'am." This was at least true. Harry had little thought to his future since hearing the Prophecy last June. He truly believed that he would not have a future, but he could scarcely mention that to McGonagall. He glanced over at his friend Ron, who looked confused but not upset. Hopefully Harry could manage to take Ron aside before the whole story came out.

His teacher glared at him. "You just changed your mind – after all I said."

Looking at the ground, Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry Professor."

"Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get you into that class?"

Harry blanched, knowing what she was going to say.

"Do you have any idea how difficult it was to get Professor Snape to accept you into that class when you had not received an Outstanding? He only did it as a personal favor to me – and I still don't think that he would have done it if the Headmaster had not intervened."

That was it. McGonagall had just blurted out the entire sorry without giving Harry a chance to explain it to Ron. He turned away from his friend who let out a frustrated squeak. His teacher seemed to be waiting for a reply. Harry had none.

She sighed in exasperation. "Well Potter- I don't know what's going on with you, but I am not taking you off the Potions rooster. And I expect your best work. You are a Gryffindor after all. Now you better start back to the tower. Do not wait for Mr. Weasley. And get some sleep. You look exhausted. Quiddich starts this week."

"Yes Ma'am." He shot Ron a sympathetic look and left the room. He made his way up to the Gryffindor common room where Ginny and Hermione were waiting for him.

"What did you two do?" Hermione demanded. "You've only been here a couple of hours!"

Harry explained what had transpired.

"You're going to give up your dream of becoming an Auror because you don't want to take class with Snape?" Hermione asked incredulously. "That's absurd."

Shrugging, Harry glanced over at Ginny who seemed to be watching him with a shrewd expression. "Well it doesn't really matter anyway. McGonagall won't let me out of the class."

"Well she shouldn't…" Hermione started.

Harry ignored her. "I wish she hadn't said anything in front of Ron. He's already disappointed not to get into the class and now he finds out they let me in."

"He was upset." Ginny confirmed. "But they were bound to make an exception for you after everything that happened last year. It's a wonder you got any OWLS at all."

She's right." Hermione agreed. "Still I wish Snape would have made an exception for Ron though as well. He was awfully upset when the OWLS came in."

They need not have worried about Ron's reaction however. He came hurrying into the Common Room not long after his friend had.

"You're not going to believe it." Ron said breathlessly, pulling them out of earshot. "The Order has given me an assignment."

"Are you serious Ron?" Hermione asked in a hushed tone which suddenly sounded anxious.

Ron's red head nodded gravely. Harry could not help but notice that his friend appeared pleased with Hermione's reaction.

"I thought we were too young to be in the Order." Ginny protested, a not of jealousy apparent in her voice.

Harry agreed.

"That's true, but Dumbledore reckons I'm the only one that can do this." Ron explained with obvious pride.

"What do they want you to do?"

"They're really worried about Percy," Ron whispered. "Since he sided with the Ministry, they are concerned that he could be manipulated by others as well."

Percy's name reminded Harry of his conversation with Ginny in Diagon Alley. He glanced over to catch her reaction, but she was staring at the floor, her long hair covering her face. Harry sensed that she was upset.

"Remember when he wrote me last year? Well they want me to keep in touch with him, sort of. Let the Order know he's in with us."

"So they're convinced he's going to be Minister then?" Inquired Harry.

Ron nodded. "And after last year with, well you know about that row with the family, Dumbledore's worried he's too isolated and vulnerable to bad influences."

Harry and the two girls stared at him. Harry could scarcely believe that one of his classmates was already being tapped in the fight against Voldemort.

"I want to get started right away" Ron declared. " I am going upstairs to write out an OWL. I'll see you guys tomorrow." He started up the stairs. Hermione followed suite, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

Suspecting that she was upset, Harry tried to think of something to say which might open up a discussion. While he was contemplating it, Ginny got up and walked over to a group of fifth year boys. Deciding that Ginny was not upset after all, Harry paced over to the window. It was a peaceful, starry night, but Harry had to wonder what was taking place outside the castle grounds and what Lord Voldemort was planning now that he was outside the protection of Privet Drive.


	10. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

Cornelius Fudge was unable to even look out of his windows. They were covered with owls, most of them bearing Howlers. One owl in particular had been there for hours. It pecked at the panes feverishly trying to gain access to the flat. The amount of racket it produced was tremendous. Fudge glared at the tawny bird, wondering what insulting message it was so keen on delivering.

"It's probably from the Lovegoods," he decided. "They would be likely to pull such a stunt."

Anyway, he was done with it: the Howlers, the protestors, the nasty editorials, - the whole lot of it. The Wireless Wizarding Network had been broadcasting his resignation speech all afternoon. Fudge had deliberately chosen to resign today as it was the start of at Hogwarts and he knew he would be too busy to attempt to dissuade him. Dumbledore still had no idea that Fudge had been threatened and Fudge was sworn to secrecy.

He had originally intended to get out of politics altogether, but now that he was facing a life of obscurity, his was suddenly rethinking his decision. Perhaps he could lay low until public opinion shifted. Then he could call in a favor from young Percy Weasley. Why he could be Fudge, ambassador to France or Bulgaria. Cornelius Fudge – Goodwill Ambassador. Liking the sound of that, he congratulated himself his plan. He was glad now that he had chosen not to take Dumbledore's advice. Albus Dumbledore certainly would not be looking out for Fudge's best interests.

Hearing a knock at the door, Fudge groaned. "Who is it?" He growled.

"Lucius Malfoy"

Fudge opened the door slightly so that Malfoy could enter. It was not an easy matter as several of the owls used the opportunity to attempt to get into the flat. The tawny owl was especially aggressive. He kept biting and pecking at Malfoy, desperate to get in.

"Get off me, you filthy bird!" Malfoy grumbled, warding it off with his walking stick.

"Those damn Lovegoods," Fudge mumbled slamming the door shut again.

"I did not know you were such an admirer of birds." Malfoy noted dryly. He made quite a refined figure- his pale, pointed face contrasting with his black silk robes.

"I suppose you've heard about my resignation."

"Yes. Young Weasley will be taking over then, an interesting choice."

"Lucius, I was threatened by Death Eaters!"

"Really?" Lucius commented with what seemed like mock surprise. "How terrifying for you."

Fudge gaped at Malfoy, suddenly making a connection. "It was you!" He shouted pointing his finger at his guest.

"Your mental powers astound me, Minister." Malfoy replied biting off each word with clear sarcasm. "However, I was not present that evening."

"The Death Eater in the back-I swore I knew him!"

"I daresay you did. It was Severus Snape."

"Snape?" Fudge cried out in alarm. "He works for You Know Who now?"

"My dear Minister, Snape has always been in the service of the Dark Lord. He has no loyalty to anyone or anything else."

"I knew it! I tried to tell Dumbledore, but he wouldn't listen. Lucius, he always has Dumbledore's ear. He trusts Snape."

Malfoy laughed. " Yes the Old Fool does seem to trust him. That's what makes Snape such a valuable tool of the Dark Lord." He paused. "Anyway, I'm here on business as I usually am when I find I must pay a call on you."

Fudge glared at Malfoy. "But now you're her on You Know Who's business!"

"Come now Cornelius. Dumbledore's not here. You can spare me the act. You knew whose side I was on when you issued that pardon. And we both know that you have no preference for either side as long as they are willing to share a little power. A rather intelligent stance, I must agree."

Fudge did not protest but stared at him stonily. He was still uncertain as to why Malfoy was here, but he was getting very nervous. This was not the quiet slip into retirement that he had envisioned.

Malfoy gracefully slipped his wand out of his robes

"Now see here Malfoy. What do you intend to do with that?" He stammered, clumsily groping for his own wand.

Disarming him neatly, Malfoy clicked his tongue. "I find it regrettable, but the Dark Lord feels that your services are no longer required."

Fudge stared in disbelief at his wand, which was lying on the floor. How could Malfoy have disarmed him so very easily? "I've never worked for the Dark Lord!" He protested vehemently.

"Indeed," Malfoy replied coolly, his very tone seeming to ooze with irony.

"Lucius," Fudge began as he held up his hands. "We go back a long time. You don't want to do this. Have you no regard for our friendship?"

Lucius shook his head as if bored. "Cornelius- there are three Death Eaters waiting outside including Bellatrix Lestrange. In deference to our friendship, I've chosen to come in alone. It was not easy. There were many volunteers for this job. Believe me, you don't want to die at the hands of the Lestranges. I've witnessed such deaths, they are not attractive."

Shaking, Fudge tried to speak. "Lucius- I'll join you. I'll serve the Dark Lord!" His every thought was bent on self-preservation. He could feel the sweat drenching his clothes.

Malfoy chuckled. "Minister, you've been doing his work for over a year. You just didn't know it." He twirled his wand idly. "Any last words? Would you like to call on the Dementors? Ah, so sorry, they don't answer to you any more."

Fudge felt his legs weakening. His head was buzzing and he felt as if he might faint. He tried to respond to his would be assassin, but as he moved his mouth, no words came out.

"Very eloquent Minister. I'm sure they'll remember that for years." He flicked his wand and preformed the killing curse.

There were excited shrieks from outside and Malfoy knew that the Death Eaters were sending up the Dark Mark. Stashing his wand, Malfoy collected his walking stick to leave. He paused at the front door to let in the obstinate owl, which had so frustrated Fudge.

"Minister," he called dryly. "You have an urgent OWL from Dumbledore." He laughed to himself as he left the flat.

The tawny owl flew over Fudge's body and perched on the lime green bowler hat next to him. It hooted with agitation. Two hours later the authorities found the creature in the same spot. Only after the Minister's body was removed did the owl abandon its perch and start on the long flight back to Hogwarts.


	11. Chapter Eleven

Author's Note: For those of you who find Dumbledore's actions questionable, know that there will be further examples of it in the future and from the past.

Chapter Eleven

News of Fudge's death had hit the school by breakfast. All of the students were abuzz about his assassination as well as the new Minister of Magic, Percy Weasley. Harry, himself, could scarcely believe that a schoolmate a few years older than himself was now in charge of the entire magical realm.

Ron was absolutely speechless. Harry tried to imagine how he must feel. Was he excited that his brother was the new Minister of Magic? Was he scared for Percy? Was Ron anxious about his duty to the Order of the Phoenix? At the very least, it must be very odd for his friend.

In contrast to the student body, the staff table was silent. None of the teachers were conversing as they usually did. Dumbledore and McGonagall were looking particularly somber. Professors Sprout and Lupin were engrossed in the newest issue of the Daily Prophet. Tiny Professor Flitwick was barely visible behind the blown up picture on the front page. It was of the now all too familiar Dark Mark Skull and Snake, but it was not over some Muggle or Mudblood home. This time it loomed menacingly over the Ministerial flat.

Harry's eye sought out Professor Snape, curious to catch his reaction. He was seated at the end of the staff table watching a small group of Slytherans very closely. Harry nudged Hermione and they both looked over. It was Draco Malfoy huddled with a group of seventh year students. Straining their ears to hear was futile; they were much too far away. Harry got the distinct impression that Snape was trying to overhear them as well.

"Malfoy," grumbled Ron. "He's pretty full of himself now that his father's been pardoned."

Hermione nodded. "He was unbelievable on the train."

"Great", Harry muttered sarcastically. "We've got Potions with him first thing."

As soon as he mentioned Potions class, Hermione shot him a look. Harry had not intended to bring up the subject, but there was no point in avoiding it either.

Ron's brows knitted and his nose wrinkled. "Yeah what was all that in McGonagall's office? You don't want to be an Auror anymore?"

Harry shrugged. What could he say? Not the real reasons for his change of heart.

"That's it then. You just change your mind, even after they made a special exception to get you into the class. Must be nice having such pull." He pushed his fork idly around his plate while his face started to redden.

All the signs were there. Harry knew his best friend was irritated if not down right angry. He looked to Hermione for support. She threw up her hands and shook her head, clearly not wanting to be involved in this.

Forcing his voice into an even tone, Harry responded to his friend. "Ron, I…"

Ron caught him off sharply. "I know, I know," he mumbled. He continued speaking in

a whiny, dramatic voice. "I didn't ask for this, Ron. I don't want this, Ron…"

It was a good imitation of Harry and Harry knew it. He blushed and swallowed hard. He could not have been more embarrassed. Do I really sound like that? Like I'm some sort of martyr? He hated to think it was exactly what he sounded like. From now on, he was really going to think about what he said.

Mercifully, they were interrupted by the delivery of the morning's mail. Owls of every size and color suddenly filled the room.

"Good", said Hermione. "Now we'll have our own paper to read, for what it's worth."

Harry and Ron scanned the room for the owl, which delivered the Daily Prophet. Amongst the owls was a large black bird, a note in its beak.

"A raven!" Harry exclaimed. In all his years at Hogwarts he had never seen one delivering the mail.

"Shhh!" Ron and Hermione hushed him immediately.

"What?"

"Harry, don't you know what that means?" Hermione asked quietly.

"It's not good, mate." Ron noted somberly.

Shaking his head, Harry realized this was another example of his ignorance of the wizarding world.

"Ravens are used to deliver news of the dead. Most owls refuse the task." Hermione filled him in quietly.

"Don't you remember when Pansy Parkinson's grandmother died?" Ron asked. "A big raven showed up at breakfast and Snape had to take her out of the Great Hall. He must have been a great comfort." He added sarcastically.

Harry could not remember. "Harry might have been in the hospital wing." Hermione mused turning to Ron who nodded.

Silence descended upon the Gryffindor table, as the raven hovered above it. Stepping down from the staff table, McGonagall walked over to be with her House. All eyes were on the raven as it finally came to rest in front of Andrew Kirke. As he read the letter, tears filled his eyes.

McGonagall put her arm around his shoulder. "Come along, Kirke."

"It's my Dad, Professor." He choked out. "And the Dark Mark-it's over my house!"

"I know." She said soothingly and gently led him out.

The three kids shook their heads. For a while no one spoke. Hermione finally broke the silence.

"Well what are you taking this morning?" She asked Ron.

"Divination. I wasn't going to take it, but I got an Outstanding on the OWL. It was probably a mistake on the examiner's part, but I figured I might as well play to my strengths."

"I'm taking Divination, too. Why isn't it at the same time?" Harry wondered aloud.

"Maybe they made a mistake." Ron suggested looking over at Harry's schedule. "You're taking from Trelawney?" He exclaimed. "Everyone knows she's a right old fraud. Take from Firenze."

"I just thought it would be easier." Harry muttered.

This was not, of course, true. He was only taking the class in an attempt to gain more information about the Prophecy involving him and Lord Voldemort. Lying to Ron and Hermione made him feel uncomfortable and he squirmed uncomfortably in his chair.

Hermione stared at him in disbelief. "Harry who do you think is going to be in that class? All of her groupies! It's just going to be Lavender and Parvati fawning all over her. How will you stand it?"

I'm taking from Trelawney as well," said a voice behind them.

It was Neville Longbottom, late to breakfast. A smile formed on his round face, but Harry thought he looked rather sad. Just as Neville sat down, the plates disappeared. Breakfast was over.

"Tough luck, Neville," Ron laughed gathering up his books. "I'll see you at Quiddich try-outs." He called to Harry.

While Harry and Hermione were waiting outside for Potions, Draco Malfoy swaggered over flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"What only two of you then? The Weasel didn't have the brains to get in?"

Crabbe and Goyle sniggered.

"And you're telling us that these two got in?" Hermione asked doubtfully, pointing to Crabbe and Goyle.

"Crabbe and Goyle will be pursuing other subjects this semester. But they decided to come down anyway. They wanted to get a good look at a real live Mudblood before they become extinct." Malfoy sneered.

"Why you…"" Harry clenched his teeth angrily.

"Don't start anything." Hermione mouthed. "Snape will be down here any minute."

Glaring at Malfoy, Harry fingered his wand in his pocket.

"Oh Potter, where are my manners? Did I forget to ask you how you're holidays were? I've been wondering how you were enjoying the _Dog Day_s of summer!"

"That's enough, Malfoy!" Hermione cried sharply. "I mean it!"

She moved to step in front of Harry, but it was too late. At Malfoy's last comment, a blind fury shook Harry. His wand snapped quickly and he screamed out a hex that he did not even remember learning.

The force of the spell knocked Harry a good ten feet backward into the wall. His blond locks turned into tiny snakes, which curled and nipped at his face. He looked like a male Medusa. His expression was shocked and his eyes showed fear.

All along the wall students watched in awe. "Did you see that?" They whispered. "Look how far he flew! That's amazing!"

Initially pleased that he had bested Malfoy, Harry now stared at his wand unnerved. He could not believe how potent his hex had been. It was still resonating up his arm.

Hermione gaped at him, then quickly aimed her wand towards Malfoy, turning the snakes back into hair.

Dusting off his robes, Malfoy approached Harry. He eyed him appraisingly. "Alright then, Potter. I should have known. I've heard things about you, some very interesting things. Perhaps we'll end up on the same side after all."

The boy wizard felt the color drain from his face. Did Malfoy know about his attempt at the Cruciatus curse? What did he mean about switching sides?

Nudging her friend, Hermione whispered. "Harry what is he talking about? What does he mean?"

As if on cue, Snape came striding down the corridor. Eyeing Harry and Malfoy, he frowned sourly.

"What's happened here, Mr. Malfoy?" He demanded.

For a moment, Harry thought his first NEWT level Potions class would begin as most of the others had, with a loss of points from Gryffindor and a possible detention.

But Draco Malfoy surprised him. "Ah nothing, Sir", he replied in his most unctuous tone. "Nothing at all." He winked at Harry.

He was so smug! Harry wanted to hit him, but he knew better than to start any trouble with Snape. He said nothing.

Snape looked at the two of them doubtfully, curling his lip. He then swung his gaze to Crabbe and Goyle. "What are you two doing here? Some other teacher has been burdened with the impossible task of educating you. I suggest you find them."

The class filed in after Snape unlocked the door. Harry and Hermione found seats near the back of the room hoping to avoid the Potion Master's wake. Glancing around the room, Harry knew that he did not belong here. The NEWT class was approximately the same size as the OWL level class, except that it was made up of students from all four Houses. The pupils were the best students from each House. Suddenly Harry realized how very far out of his league he was. It would take all of Hermione's help just to complete the work.

By the end of class, his teacher, in typical Snape fashion had all but told the class that Harry had not earned his way in. Harry reddened with each snide remark. Only by picturing Snape's humiliation at the hands of the Marauders, was Harry able to hold his temper. Throughout the period, Hermione kept glancing over with a searching look, still wondering about Malfoy's words to him.

Later that afternoon, Ron and Harry grabbed their things and headed down to the quiddich pitch for team try-outs. Much to their surprise, Hermione followed saying she wanted to watch. This was unusual, as she was not generally interested in the sport.

McGonagall had appointed Harry team captain but was planning on overseeing try-outs herself, as there were several open spots on the team. As they approached the field they saw a large group of Gryffindors milling about. At the center of the group slouched Viktor Krum.

Hermione saw him first, smiled and waved. She took a seat in the stands.

"What's he doing here?" Ron muttered to Harry.

Krum gestured for everyone to gather around him. "Professor Gonagall vanted to select players herself, but now she haf to see to Kirke. She asked me and the team captain to run try-outs."

There were nods from the group.

"Who vas on last year's team, please?"

Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Jack Sloper raised their hands.

"The rest of you. You are all new I am thinking." His eyes fell on tiny Colin and Dennis Creavey who were standing eagerly with their brooms. "You can not play-you vill be blown avay!"

Ginny giggled and Harry had to agree with Krum. The Creavey brothers did not seem suited to Quiddich. It was a rough sport, as Harry had learned first hand more than once.

"We want to try out," Colin said.

"You'll see Mr.Krum," Dennis added. "Our size helps us."

Krum shrugged. "Vatever. Ve vill see how you do? Ron, you are keeper. Sloper, vat you play? Beater?"

Jack nodded.

"Miss Veasley?"

Last year I played seeker, but Harry's way better. I'd like to try beater." Ginny answered.

Ron looked concerned. "I thought you were going to try goal seeking this year? You should be a chaser. Ginny, you could get hurt."

Ginny rolled her eyes.

Ron looked over at Harry for his assent, but Harry felt certain Ginny could take of herself.

"Ve vill let the new people fill in" Krum announced. "Harry you sit beside me and ve vill see who is best for Gryffindor."

As Harry sat next to Hermione and Krum, the Creavey brothers took to the air giving each other high fives. Even though it appeared that a stiff breeze might blow them off course, they turned out to be quite a force. They were as quick as lightning and nimble as could be. Dennis could even fly through the hoops. No bludger could touch them. Harry knew instantly that these were the two new seekers.

After all the candidates had had an opportunity to play, Krum and Harry made their decisions. The Creavey brothers and Seamus Finnegan would be chasers. Ginny did quite well as a beater knocking the bludgers with zest. Krum even had to penalize her for unnecessary roughness. She was like a combination of Fred and George rolled into one.

Everyone marched back up to the castle, triumphant or disappointed. Harry was left alone in the stands with Hermione and Krum.

"It's going to be a good team this year, don't you think?" he asked Krum conversationally.

Glowering at Harry, Krum ignored the question. "I hear about you and Draco Malfoy- about vat happened."

Frowning, Harry glared at Hermione. Why would she tell him that?

Krum shuffled and glanced around nervously. "It's so hard I know, these losses. They making me so angry. Ven I lost my people- I vas hurting so much. I just vanted to bring them back so much."

Hermione put her hand on his arm sympathetically. "Viktor, we all wish that."

"No Hermy-own-niny. There are vays."

Harry's ears picked up. "What ways?" he asked eagerly. "Dumbledore said there was no spell to reawaken the dead." Was Krum correct? Was it possible that he could bring back Sirius? His parents?

"No spell perhaps. But there are vays. Ve spoke of them at Durmstrong. I vas not vizard enough to find them. My only talent is Quiddich it vould seem." He spat at the ground.

"That's not true Viktor!" Hermione declared adamantly.

Harry said nothing. Could it possibly be true? He left Hermione and Krum and headed towards the library to do some research. If there was no spell, could there be a potion? Harry found nothing in the library but resolved to speak to Professor Lupin about it. He knew he would be straight with him.

Ron was already in bed when Harry came upstairs. He did notice, however, a new addition to their dormitory. The newspaper picture of Percy Weasley being sworn in under the headline "Youngest Minister of Magic", was now hanging on the wall by Ron's bed.

With the threat of Occlumency lessons upon him, Harry made an extra effort to clear his mind. It was not easily done this night however. He kept picturing McGonagall escorting Andrew Kirke out of the Hall. He could not help but wonder about Fudge's assassination. Was Viktor Krum onto anything? Mostly though, he remembered his encounter with Draco Malfoy. His arm still tingled slightly from performing the potent hex. He had no idea he could produce magic of such magnitude. That's something positive, he thought. Maybe he was in better shape to face Voldemort than he knew.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

"Our team's going to be unbeatable this year." Ron exclaimed with excitement. "I thought we'd be in trouble this year without Fred and George, but with Ginny and the Creavey brothers, no one will be able to touch us!"

The boys were on their way down through the Common Room, but stopped short at a most unusual sight. Comfortably seated in front of the fireplace was none other than the Headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore. Harry and Ron looked at each other and stared at their Headmaster. They had never encountered Dumbledore in their Common Room before.

"Good morning Harry, Mr.Weasley," he said rising to greet them. "Lovely day isn't it?"

Neither boy responded. They were so taken aback by the situation.

The old wizard smiled kindly at them. "I thought it might be a nice day for a walk around the grounds. Harry, what do you say?"

Harry agreed. He doubted it was optional.

"Very well then. Harry will rejoin you later, Mr. Weasley. By the way, Professor McGonagall tells me you received an Outstanding OWL in Divination. Congratulations are in order, I believe."

Ron reddened but beamed at the Headmaster.

Footsteps were heard on the staircase behind them. Neville Longbottom was also on his way out.

"Good morning, Neville" Dumbledore called.

Mumbling something back, Neville continued walking without so much as a glance in Dumbledore's direction.

Harry and Ron exchanged puzzled looks. It was inconceivable to them that Neville Longbottom would be deliberately rude to a teacher, yet they had just seen it with their own eyes. What would Dumbledore do?

Dumbledore did not reprimand the boy or even say anything to him. Still the old man's expression seemed to grow troubled as he watched Neville leave the room. He soon turned his attention back to Harry however, waiting until they reached the grounds to begin speaking. He asked after Harry's summer and seemed genuinely concerned about him. So much so, that the teenager could not help but feel a twinge of guilt about his own hostile thoughts towards the man.

During a pause in the conversation, Dumbledore cleared his throat and eyed Harry intently. "I've spoken to Professor Lupin. I know what you've been feeling."

Frowning, Harry said nothing.

"I've been meaning to talk to you for some time."

Harry snorted in disbelief. He did not care if he was being rude. He knew now that Dumbledore was using him and he had lost nearly all regard for the man.

With a sigh, Dumbledore stopped walking and looked directly at the boy. "Let me ask you something, Harry. How old do you think I am?"

Harry looked blank. He could not hazard a guess. Nor did he understand what Dumbledore was getting at.

The old wizard chuckled to himself and flashed his twinkling smile. "Let me make it a little easier for you. How long do you think I've been teaching."

"I don't know Sir." Truthfully, he did not care either. "Pretty long I think. Everyone seems to have been at school with you."

"A fair point," Dumbledore acknowledged. "And in that time, how many students do you think I've seen?"

Harry shrugged, becoming increasingly irritated with Dumbledore's odd line of questioning. "Dozens?" he guessed. "Hundreds even?"

"Precisely Harry," he replied sitting heavily on a nearby tree stump. "I have watched hundreds of children walk through those doors with absolutely limitless potential. And then I watched powerlessly as little by little that potential was snuffed out by Voldemort and those like him."

Harry shivered.

"When I first heard the Prophecy, I admit I was glad a potential vanquisher of Voldemort existed, for all the reasons I just gave. But what you must remember Harry, was at the time you were not even born. When it became clear that you were the boy referred to in the Prophecy, I did intend to use you, as I think anyone would have. But once you came to Hogwarts and I watched you, saw you for the individual that you were grew to know you – I found myself hesitating. Finally, I had to tell you about the Prophecy as it did concern you, but now- now I was no longer pleased that it had been made. I wish it had not made foretold. Or at least I wish it did not include you."

Harry listened intently. He felt almost as if he were hearing a confessional.

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "You see Harry, I know you've often wondered what it would be like to have parents." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "Recently I've come to wonder what it might be like to have a son."

Harry felt a warm feeling creeping up his spine. Did Dumbledore really think of him like a son? Harry had spent the summer thinking that he was just a pawn in larger affairs and he hated Dumbledore for making him one. He had been childish. All of the sudden, the burden of the Prophecy seemed lighter, and he felt the same fortified feeling he used to feel when Dumbledore spoke to him. He wanted to say something back, but found he did not have the words to. His face turned pink and his scar prickled.

Dumbledore's smile widened as if he could sense what Harry felt. He got up and resumed walking, reiterating the need for him to master Occlumency, warning of the dangers of misdirected thoughts. Professor Lupin would be meeting with him weekly to monitor his progress. And, Harry suspected, to keep Professor Snape in check. When the Headmaster brought up Snape, Harry was unable to hide his feelings about him.

Dumbledore sighed. "I could tell you that you must respect him because he is your teacher, but you are no longer a child. Instead I must ask that you work with him in spite of your feelings as I would ask another adult to do."

Less than thrilled, Harry did not think he could refuse a personal request from Dumbledore.

His Headmaster's eyes twinkled. " I can remember another young lady that I had to make a similar request of."

Who's that?"

"Your mother."

Harry looked up with interest.

"You see there was a certain young Potions Master who was in danger of failing Charms. I asked your mother to tutor him. I had to twist her arm to do it, but she performed the task admirably."

With those words, Dumbledore managed to extract a pledge from Harry to put his best foot forward with Snape. He only hoped Dumbledore had managed to receive a similar agreement from "a certain Potions Master."

Eyeing the grounds suspiciously, Dumbledore lowered his voice. "Before you go, Harry, I have something to tell you. I'm afraid that you are going to have to go home for Christmas break this year."

"What? Why?"

"I and several staff members will be involved with work for the Order. You will be much safer at home. I've already informed your Aunt that she should expect you. I thought you would want to know ahead of time."

Christmas with the Dursleys, Harry could not think of a worse way to spend the break. As it was for his own safety however, he knew he could not argue.

After dinner Harry made his way down to the dungeons for Occlumency lessons. Ginny was already there, waiting. Unlike Harry, she did not seem nervous. The boy was impressed that she could be standing thee so confidently, but then she had not yet experienced one of Snape's lessons. He hoped the man would not be too hard on her.

The door opened and Snape summoned him inside. Unconsciously Harry glanced over to the desk where the Pensive had been set during last year's lessons. It was no longer there.

"Have you practiced over the summer, Potter?" Snape spat. Folding his arms, he contemplated Ginny. "I do not know why the Headmaster insists you be here, but I can assure you it will only take a few minutes to catch you up to where Potter is."

Harry flushed. Snape was nearly always insulting, but it seemed somehow worse in front of Ginny. He stole a glance at the girl, but she appeared unfazed by Snape's remarks.

Snape quickly reviewed the main theory behind Occlumency for Ginny. She nonchalantly nodded to she her comprehension.

"Potter and I will demonstrate." He uttered drawing out his wand.

Pulling out his own wand, Harry stepped back nervously. "Please don't let me make a fool out of myself," he thought. Not in front of Ginny.

Instantly, Snape's yellow features twisted into a smirk as if he knew exactly what the boy was thinking and planned to do just as he feared. "Ready Potter? Legilimens!" The black figure gracefully raised his wand.

The force of the spell rendered Harry slightly off balance. As he planted his feet, a stream of images began to flash through his mind: a dog jumping up on him at the train platform, Lupin handing him a picture of his godfather. Harry struggled to regain control, but to no avail. The images flashed faster: Sirius feeding Buckbeak, Kreacher laughing, Sirius running through the Ministry. Harry felt despair welling up inside of him. It was almost as if he were under attack by the dementors. The next thing he knew he was on the floor, his scar alive with pain. Ginny knelt down to help him up, but Harry would not look at her. He turned his attention to Snape. For a split second he appeared shaken, then an angry expression fixed on the Potion Master's face.

"I would have thought that last term would have demonstrated how important Occlumency is!"

"It did, Sir!" Harry answered hotly. He felt as if Snape was trying to blame him for Sirius's death and he was fighting for control. He wanted to scream at Snape and tell him that he was responsible for what happened, but he remembered what Dumbledore had said. He also knew that he would be meeting with Lupin. He held his tongue.

"Why then are you allowing me access to memories and emotions like those? By now even you should have some inkling as to what powers the Dark Lord has at his disposal. Yet you chose to hand him more!" Snape brandished his wand. "Again Potter!"

Concentrating hard, Harry braced himself. He heard Snape intone the spell and images slowly started to play through his mind. He fought to stop them and they slowed further. "Don't let him in," Harry thought. "And don't let anything out."

Snape broke the spell. "Better Potter. But not nearly good enough."

Exhausted, Harry leaned against the wall.

"Let's see how you manage, Miss Weasley. You must ward me off as best you can."

Harry smiled at her encouragingly. Ginny stepped forward appearing a lot less confidant after witnessing Harry's attempts.

He watched her intently after Snape waved his wand. She stood rigidly with her mouth set and eyes narrowed. Snape was nearly a mirror image, though a much uglier one. The room was silent. Harry looked back and forth from one to the other. Finally, Snape broke the connection.

He was clearly surprised. "That was not bad for a first attempt. I shall be applying more effort this time."

Harry was impressed and as Snape recast the spell he found himself mentally cheering her on. "Come on, Ginny." He whispered. "Don't let him get to you."

Once again Snape broke the connection. He contemplated Ginny with a great deal of interest, obviously stunned that she had not wound up on the floor as Harry usually did.

Rocking on her heels, Ginny gazed at Snape placidly.

"Miss Weasley-" he began.

Harry saw Ginny's lip turn up ever so slightly as if in triumph.

Snape must have seen it too. He clenched his teeth. "Legilimens!"

Ginny was not prepared. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes stared blankly. Harry wondered if this was how he appeared during lessons. He could barely stand it. He wished that Snape would end it. Ginny staggered backwards. Harry reached out to prevent her from falling into the wall. Finally, she slumped to the floor.

Harry felt a fresh surge of hatred for the man as he watched Snape's mouth curl into a satisfied smile.

Ginny rose with dignity smoothing her skirt as she looked to Snape.

"Tell me, Miss Weasley" he said with a sneer. "Is there any boy at Hogwarts who is not in your head?"

Ginny looked mortified. She quickly glanced at Harry who looked down, but not before he saw tears in her eyes.

"Dismissed, Miss Weasley", Snape uttered as the girl hurried out of the office.

Snape detained Harry for a little while longer. When he was finally dismissed he assumed Ginny was already back in her dormitory. He started down the passageway with a hand clasped on his forehead. This was not unusual. It always hurt after Occlumency. Surprisingly, he encountered Ginny sitting cross-legged on the bottom step of a stone staircase. He sat down next to her.

"Are you okay, Ginny? Listen Snape was out of line-"

Ginny interrupted him. "Snape's a git. That's not a news flash, Harry. I can see that Occlumency is a pretty useful skill though. Can you get into anyone's mind yet?"

It was an odd question. "No. They're only teaching me defensive stuff."

"It must be the same theory though." She mused. "You should be able to work out how to do it from the defensive tactics."

"I guess so. I really only need defensive work." He replied. Harry was surprised at Ginny's interest in Legilimens. It seemed like mind reading to him, and that was not something he thought anyone should do.

She sighed. "As long as you are safe from Him, right?" She asked eyeing him earnestly.

Harry nodded. "How are your classes going? I heard you got detention already."

Ginny laughed. "I jinxed Dean Thomas and Flitwick caught me."

"You two aren't going out anymore?"

"No, we had a row. He had all these plans for the first Hogsmeade weekend, but I'm spending it with Tonks. She wanted to come and see me here, but McGonagall would not wave the visitation policy. Now I shan't see her until October."

"That's too bad." Harry said sympathetically, though he could not help but wonder why Ginny would want to spend an entire Hogsmeade weekend with Tonks instead of someone her own age.

"Anyway Harry, I think we should make a pact not to speak to anyone about anything that comes out in Occlumency."

"That's fine Ginny, but you know that usually only the spell caster can see what's in your head."

"I realize that," she replied. "But Snape will have no problem broadcasting anything he sees."

Harry agreed. He was relieved. Although the boy was glad to be sharing lessons with Ginny, he was concerned about personal matters that might come to light.

"Whatever happens in Occlumency stays between us." Ginny stated, extending her hand.

"I won't tell a soul." Harry vowed. He took her hand and they shook on it.


	13. Chapter Thirteen

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay. When I tried to put it on last night, the site had gone read only. Thanks for reading!

Chapter Thirteen

"Okay Ginny, that's enough." Lupin said glancing at the time. He had his weekly appointment with Harry to get to.

Ginny rose from the desk where she was sitting and gathered up the parchment she was writing on. She approached the teacher's desk and handed it to Lupin.

Glancing at it, Lupin saw several rows of identical neat writing. It read: " I will not talk in class." He looked back up.

"Ginny your marks are high and you seem quite talented, but you really need to stop talking in class. If it continues I will be forced to mention it to your Head of House and I know you don't want to be the reason Gryffindor loses House points." He tried to sound stern but he was not really annoyed at the girl. Her high spirits and natural talent reminded him of James and Sirius from his own school days.

"Yes, thank you Professor," Ginny answered apparently unfazed by her punishment. She turned and started to leave the classroom.

Shaking his head, Lupin used his wand to gather up his own things. All of the sudden, he remembered he had wanted to ask her something.

"Oh Ginny, are you playing on Saturday?"

"Yes, it's Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw."

"Good. Tonks is coming to tea and she mentioned that she had never seen you guys play. I thought if there was a match, we might stop by for a bit."

Ginny smiled broadly.

When Lupin arrived at his office, Harry was sitting on the floor outside the door. "Sorry to keep you waiting Harry. You don't need to sit on the floor. You should have gone in."

"I tried to. It was locked."

Lupin suddenly remembered that he had taken to locking the door. There were books in scrolls in there that he was researching for the Order. He did not want them to fall into the wrong hands. Lupin opened the door and let them in.

He was relieved that Harry still appeared to be doing well. The boy did not report any disturbing dreams or strange visions and had not on previous visits. Although Harry sometimes voiced his natural fears about Voldemort, he also spoke about his friends, and classes, and Quiddich. Occlumency, though still a struggle, did seem to be working.

On this particular day, the student's main concern seemed to be his mounting pile of unfinished homework. So Lupin was surprised when he put down his drink and suddenly appeared quite serious.

"I wanted to ask you about something." He started.

Lupin's stomach lurched. He feared that Harry was about to bring up the subject of the Prophecy as he had done over the summer. Although Lupin was prepared to discuss it if Harry wanted to, he had avoided broaching the subject himself. He was fearful his own emotions would color the topic.

"Professor Dumbledore said that there was no spell to reawaken the dead. Is that really true?"

So he finally wanted to talk about Sirius. Lupin welcomed the dialogue. "Well Harry, I think we both know that that is true."

Harry nodded. "That's what I thought, but someone told me there are ways to do it."

"Who told you that?" Lupin asked warily, now uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation.

"Viktor Krum"

Lupin hit the table angrily. "That's what's wrong with teaching children the Dark Arts," he ranted. "You give them possibilities, but no sense of the implications."

"So it is possible?" Harry asked.

"No Harry, it's not-"

"But you just said-"

"You can not simply reanimate someone. Anyone brought back in that way would be the darkest of dark creatures, bearing no resemblance to the person they once were. Motivated only by fear and hate and vengeance – the very fuel of the Dark Arts. They would be, at best, a mockery of humanity." Lupin spoke firmly needing to impress upon Harry the seriousness of the matter.

Harry appeared a bit deflated and Lupin's attempts to cheer him before he left were unsuccessful. He hated to see him upset, but he knew it was far better for him to be disappointed now than unsuspectingly caught up in the Dark Arts.

Locking the door behind his pupil, Lupin steeled himself for a long night. He spread out several scrolls on the table and began to read through them. Information had been coming into the Order that Lord Voldemort was interested in regaining his old physical form. Lupin was researching any possible ways that this might be achieved and what their implications might be.

When Saturday arrived, Lupin dressed himself in his least shabby robes and left extra early to meet Tonks. The woman had said that she would meet him in the castle, but Lupin did not want her to have to walk by herself.

Much to his surprise, Lupin encountered Tonks already halfway up the path. She was walking quickly towards the castle.

"R-Remus," she stammered. "I'm surprised to see you. I had thought we were meeting in the castle."

Lupin smiled. "Well I hope my manners aren't so poor as to allow a guest to wander the grounds alone."

She smiled back and the pair headed towards the Quiddich pitch.

The best thing to be said about the Quiddich match was that it was relatively short. Ravenclaw was really no match for Gryffindor who scored half a dozen times in the first ten minutes. For every goal, Tonks cheered loudly from the faculty stands. She received raised eyebrows from some, but Lupin hardly noticed. He could not remember enjoying a match so much in years.

It was Ginny who delivered the final blow, knocking Ravenclaw seeker Cho Chang off her broom so hard; she was unable to complete the match. Chanting Ginny's name, Tonks leapt to her feet. With her spiked hair and flashy Muggle clothing, she looked as if she could have been a student herself.

"I'm going to go down and see the kids." She told him after the match.

"I'll come to. I'd like to congratulate them."

Tonks rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly Remus, they don't want their teacher hanging around. I'll meet you in the castle."

"You're probably right. I'll see you later." Lupin said with a smile. He headed back into the castle and readied things for tea. It seemed like forever before Tonks appeared in the doorway. She had traded her Muggle clothing for robes and altered her appearance. Her hair was light brown and pulled back, making her look attractive but somewhat less youthful.

The pair sat down to tea and began to converse. Lupin found Tonks to be extremely easy to talk to and very interested in what he had to say. He found himself telling her about all sorts of things. They spoke about Sirius and Harry Potter. Lupin told her how close he felt to Harry and how difficult it was to balance that with his duties for the Order. Tonks was sympathetic. She was pouring him his third cup of tea when they heard a rap at the door.

"School duties on the weekend?" Tonks inquired.

"No. I think it might be Harry. He stops in from time to time." Lupin opened the door and sure enough, there was Harry accompanied by his best friend, Ron.

Harry glanced from Lupin to Tonks and flushed as if he thought he was interrupting something. "I'm sorry, Professor. I didn't know you had company. We were just returning this book for Hermione."

"It's quite alright Harry. Is Hermione finished with it?"

Harry nodded.

"Aren't their enough books in the library for her?" Tonks asked pleasantly.

"I think she's already read them all." Ron joked.

"I keep a small library of Defense Against the Dark Arts books," Lupin explained to Tonks. "This particular one doesn't happen to be in the library."

"I guess we'll be going." Harry said pulling Ron towards the door.

Tonks, however, seemed reluctant for them to leave. "Are you going to the Minister's Gala?" She asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "We all are. I think Percy's making the entire Ministry go, and Dad's making all of us go. Ginny really doesn't want to, but now that Percy's Minister, I guess we all have to try and get along."

"We have to go, Ron." Harry reiterated and the two boys exited.

Tonks sighed. "Harry's such a nice kid. It's such a shame he has to live with those awful relatives."

When Lupin did not comment, she continued. "I know Dumbledore sent you there this summer. Why was that? Do you know them at all?"

"I used to know his aunt, Petunia. She visited often during my school days."

Tonks nodded. "From what I heard- she sounds pretty bitter. But I guess what happened to her sister soured her on wizards-huh?"

Lupin shifted in his chair. "Yes. She is bitter, I suppose." He was anxious to steer the conversation away from the Dursleys. Partly because he was reluctant to talk about the past, and partly because Dumbledore had made him privy to a great deal of information about Harry's protection that was highly confidential even to other members of the Order of the Phoenix.

He cast about for a change of topic. "Are you obligated to attend the Gala Ron was speaking about?"

"I'm looking forward to it." Tonks answered. She opened her mouth as if to say something but closed it again. She eyed Lupin expectantly.

"It sounds like a pretty big affair if the entire Ministry is attending."

She seemed to hesitate and then looked down. "I had thought we might go together."

Lupin was caught off guard. Had she wanted him to ask her? He would have enjoyed spending the evening with her, but a Ministry Gala was a bad idea. There were a number of people likely to be in attendance that hated him because of his werewolfism. If he went with Tonks it would be certain to affect her evening and possibly have repercussions on her work for the Ministry.

"As much as I would welcome an evening of adult conversation, a formal Ministry function is not really my cup of tea." He answered in a would be casual voice.

Tonks met his eyes. "Is this about being a werewolf?"

She had seen right through him. Lupin flushed. "Tonks, you don't know what the prejudice can be like. If we went to a Ministry affair together, certain people would hold it against you. You don't want that, especially now when you are just starting your career."

Tonks stared at him, apparently incredulous. "Do you think I care what other people think?"

Before he could respond, she reached out and took his hand. "Remus, that's not what I care about. I'm a Metamorphagus. I know how little appearances count. I care about you and it wouldn't matter what you were. You would be just as important to me if you were a vampire!"

He could not believe that she had said it. He had spent his whole life having to hide the fact that he was a werewolf. He never imagined that a woman like Tonks would come along. Gazing into her heart-shaped face, Lupin felt at a complete loss for words.

"I don't know what to say," he stammered.

Her face fell slightly. "Well if you don't want to, I understand." She withdrew her hand.

Oh no. He had hurt her. That was the last thing on earth he wanted to do.

"Tonks," he uttered softly. "I would be delighted to take you." And he leaned in and kissed her as he had longed to do for months.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

Author's Note: Sorry about last week. I shall be posting again next Friday. Come back for more Snape-filled fun!

Chapter Fourteen

Severus Snape gripped his arm where the Dark Mark had burned just hours before. He staggered up the path to the darkened castle, relieved to find it fast asleep. Dumbledore however, was wide-awake and met him at the door.

"The Abbotts?" He inquired anxiously.

"Dead" Snape replied flatly.

"All of them?"

"All save the one in attendance here." It was not necessary to mention that the toll included two children under the age of ten. Nor would he tell Dumbledore how the parents had been forced to watch, as their two sons were tortured. He flinched at the thought of it.

Upon hearing the news, the old wizard had put his hand to his forehead and shut his eyes. Opening them, he contemplated his informer carefully. "Severus…" he started cautiously in a soft tone, before trailing off.

Snape could sense his Headmaster's thoughts. Dumbledore wondered whether Snape had actively participated in the violence or was merely a witness to it. Did it matter? Snape would not enlighten him as to the truth.

"I will be sending Harry Potter away at Christmas." Dumbledore continued. "I need not tell you why."

"Headmaster, I must express my concerns about his safety there. The Dark Lord he searches continuously for a weak point. The family is in danger."

"You are aware of the protection I put in place there-"

Snape interrupted him. "But do _they_ understand it? They are Muggles after all. My understanding is that the other boy was away all summer. That does not sound as if she-"

Dumbledore waved his hand as if to dismiss the entire subject. "I am cognizant of your feelings on this matter." He softened his tone. "Believe me Severus, I am. However, I have taken what measures I see fit. They are as safe as anyone can be during these times."

Not entirely satisfied, Snape pulled at his greasy hair. He wanted to retreat to his chambers, but Dumbledore continued on. "Lupin tells me Potter is doing well in Occlumency."

"He is at best adequate." Snape qualified. "And I could have told you that myself."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore mused, putting the tips of his fingertips together. "But Remus has grown quite close to the boy. Harry needs someone like him in his life. It may prove vital if Voldemort does attempt to lure him into the ways of the Dark."

"And Lupin's going to know if Precious Potter is dabbling in the Dark Arts?" Snape snapped doubtfully. "As if he could even conceive of the idea."

"If you are implying that Remus only looks for the good in people, I do not happen to believe that that is a failing." Dumbledore declared firmly. Tipping his silvery head slightly, he continued. "Lupin's well trained in Defense Against the Dark Arts. He'll be able to read the signs should it become necessary."

Should it become necessary. It was perhaps Snape and Dumbledore's greatest fear that it would become necessary. That Voldemort's power over Harry would eventually lead him deep into the Dark Arts, mirroring Tom Riddle's personal history. Such a scenario would render the possibility of permanently vanquishing Lord Voldemort very remote indeed.

Snape regarded Dumbledore sourly. He wanted to protest further. To say that Lupin was much too close to Potter to be objective. He knew it would be futile. He and Dumbledore had exchanged words about Lupin on numerous occasions.

At breakfast the next morning he sat stoically as a steely raven descended in to Hannah Abbott. Expressionlessly he watched Professor Sprout usher out the distraught girl. The next few days would not be any easier for the Potions Master either. The Death Eaters were gathering at the end of the week and Snape would have to attend as the Order's spy. Voldemort's return had forced him into a dangerous occupation. Every word, every thought, every feeling had to be guarded. A slip of the tongue could prove deadly. A slight miscalculation or error in judgement could well betray everything.

He never resented the tedium of his job quite so much as he did on the morning of his gathering at Azkaban. His students seemed exceptionally dull in class, their problems particularly petty. How could Dumbledore possibly expect him to teach when this very night he would be facing the Dark Lord and many of his most treacherous supporters- attempting to deceive them all?

After he completed his classroom responsibilities, he desired only to remain in his rooms and prepare for the night's ordeal. However, his still had his duties as Potions Master to attend to. Grudgingly, he attended his solutions.

Shortly after, Remus Lupin presented himself for his Wolfsbane potion. "Good Evening Severus" He said pleasantly.

Dipping out a goblet of potion, Snape handed it to his colleague without comment.

Taking the cup, Lupin made no move to drink it or leave Snape's office.

Severus narrowed his eyes, irritated to be delayed further in his work. "You need to drink it immediately Lupin. Otherwise it may not be potent."

"Of course", came the absent reply. Lupin remained in the doorway looking as if he wanted to say something to Snape. After a lengthy pause, he commented, somewhat lamely, on Slytheran's prospects for the Quiddich Cup.

Snape had no intention of suffering through Lupin's one-sided small talk, yet there was something in the man's voice which lead Snape to question whether Lupin knew his agenda for the night and what that might entail. Severus met the man's gray eyes and detected a glimpse of something like understanding in them. He became instantly incensed. He detested the man and certainly did not need pity from the likes of Remus Lupin.

"Is there a reason you are still here?" He demanded.

Unfazed by Snape's change in tone, Lupin remained quiet.

"I am rather busy," he continued silkily. "After all, _my_ duties for the Order extend beyond milk and cookies with Harry Potter."

Obviously put out, Lupin opened his mouth as if to counter Snape, but must have changed his mind. He drank his potion with a grimace and left wordlessly.

"Typical Lupin," thought Snape. "Fundamentally unable to speak out, unwilling to engage in conflict of any kind. He had not changed since he was sixteen. He was the one that should be pitied.

Pulling an amber vial down from a shelf, he stalked over to a simmering cauldron: The Draught of Peace. Dumbledore had requested a dose for himself. As he bent over the cauldron, to fill Dumbledore's flask, the fragrant vapors filled his nostrils. He was momentarily seized with the impulse to drink it himself. When was the last time he had spent a restful night? He could not even recall. The Draught of Peace would allow him one night unfettered by relentless retrospection and unbearable remorse. But deep down Snape knew he would never use an artificial means of quelling his personal demons. The fact that Dumbledore chose to do so did not earn him Snape's respect.

When the castle went dark and silent and even the Bloody Baron had retired for the night, he made his way out. Without lighting his wand, he moved through the darkness. At the borders of Hogwarts, Snape lingered. Clenching his fists, he concentrated on turning his mind from all outside influences. He then resolutely flashed his wand and disapparated.

He reappeared on the craggy terrain outside Azkaban prison. It was a miserable place, stormy and cold. Pulling his robes tightly around him, he hurried to the gates. Using his wand, he unbolted the gates and softly entered the building. The guards waved him on familiarly. Snape could sense dementors in the proximity, but he knew he was safe from them. He swept down a damp passage towards the lower floors where the Death Eaters kept their headquarters.

He could hear screams. Someone had foolishly failed the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," cried a desperate voice. "You don't know what he has in that forest!"

Another scream of pain.

"It is not my concern what is in the forest, McNair." Uttered an icy voice. "You will complete the task I have given you. Considerable resources have been made available to you."

"Yes, My Lord- I will not fail you", came the breathless response.

"You have done so already. I should kill you now, but the Dark Lord will afford you another opportunity to serve."

There was a high pitched shriek about the Dark Lord's benevolence. Bellatrix Lestrange, Snape concluded. A sudden chill went up his spine. He stopped short. The Dark Lord was speaking.

"Silence Bella," He uttered. "One of your brothers draws near."

Severus shuddered as he always did when he heard Voldemort refer to him.

"Come in Severus. We've been waiting for you. Don't hide in the shadows."

The spy pulled his hood tighter despite the fact that Voldemort had already addressed him by name. Striding into the chamber, Snape quickly surveyed the scene. Lord Voldemort was sitting in the center of the room with Bellatrix Lestrange unmasked on his right. Another Death Eater, probably McNair, was on his knees in front of them. Scanning the rest of the room, he noted about half a dozen Death Eaters with hoods and masks.

Upon seeing Snape, McNair scrambled to his feet and attempted to blend into a group of black figures on his left.

"You are late." Voldemort accused his tone cold.

"I was detained," Snape muttered. "I had to brew the werewolf's potion." He added with scorn.

Soft laughter rose from the other Death Eaters.

"What news do you bring us from the Muggle-lover's kingdom?"

Snape could feel the Dark Lord's mind reaching into his own. He attempted to shut himself off, only allowing negative thoughts about Dumbledore to surface. "He knows of your intentions to get your physical form back."

"Hardly a difficult connection to make, Snape. You must have more than that."

Although he nodded casually, Snape's heart raced. The Dark Lord would be requiring more information than he felt comfortable supplying. He continued to keep his mind tightly shut while inside he cast about wildly for some innocuous information he could offer.

"You are supposed to be determining the nature of the protection that has been set up for the Potter boy in Little Whining." Voldemort declared leaning in towards Snape, a threat apparent in his tone.

"All my attempts to discover this have been futile." Snape lied evenly. "The fool who employs me confides in no one."

"I know of his arrogance!" Voldemort spat, his hatred of Dumbledore clear in every syllable. "Still I find it rather difficult to believe that he has not given you any information in the sixteen years you've been supposedly seeking it!"

Snape's head pounded as Voldemort tried harder to force his way into his consciousness. He had to struggle to retain his focus. All too well he knew what happened to those who lied to the Dark Lord.

Bellatrix suddenly leapt from her chair. "Crucio!" She whispered.

Snape crumpled to the floor clutching his chest. The pain was so severe he thought it might burst. "I don't know how it works, I swear!" He gasped. "All I know is that it would be extremely dangerous to attempt to harm him there." Even in the midst of excruciating pain, Snape had to keep his mind closed and focus on the lie. To does anything else would be disastrous.

"Tell us the truth Snape!" She demanded. "You can not lie to the Lord, our master."

Snape could see nothing but her hooded eyes looming above him like a cobra. He must not tell her anything.

Next Voldemort himself leaned over Snape, staring into his eyes-revolting him. Severus was terrified that his falsehood would be detected, but the Dark Lord muttered the counter curse and the pain subsided immediately.

"He's not lying Bella!" Voldemort said turning to her. "I have formed him myself. His parents-two of my greatest servants."

Voldemort rose, offering a bony hand to Snape who took it in spite of his aversion. He was still on guard and would likely have to remain so until Voldemort was finally vanquished.

"You exceed your authority." Voldemort hissed reproachfully to Bellatrix Lestrange.

She appeared crestfallen and retreated to her high-backed seat.

"Dumbledore trusts me, but not implicitly." Snape uttered as an excuse. "He still refuses me the Defense Against the Dark Arts post."

"An insufferable fool he remains," Voldemort mused. "Yet he is not stupid. He can easily conclude where that would lead."

Snape smiled malevolently, catching the attention of Bellatrix Lestrange.

"You've already turned him to the path of the Dark!" She exclaimed breathlessly.

"Yes Severus", Voldemort noted. "Your introduction to the Dark Arts has been very successful indeed. It may not be necessary to attack Privet Drive after all"

Ignorant of what they were referring to, Snape deemed it best to remain silent.

"Imagine how surprised we were," the familiar voice of Lucius Malfoy rang out from behind a mask. "When Bellatrix informed us that young Potter attempted to Crucio her in the Department of Mysteries."

"The night was not a total loss, after all." Voldemort breathed.

Suddenly the room erupted with murmurs from all sides.

Snape felt as if he had been doused with ice water. He was appalled to hear of the incident. Dumbledore must not have known of it either. Caught off guard, he feared the Dark Lord would be able to determine that he had not been teaching the Dark Arts.

"It wasn't effective of, course." Bellatrix continued. "But that he even attempted it spoke volumes."

Silently Snape had to agree with Bellatrix. Such an act demonstrated a dangerously disturbing side to Harry Potter. Could his and Dumbledore's fears be coming to fruition?

"Who would have thought it?" Bellatrix mocked. "Dumbledore's little baby Potter using an Unforgivable Curse!"

Lord Voldemort laughed with evil delight. "Before we adjourn, I have formulated some powerful new spells. Wormtail, pass out the scrolls."

Peter Pettigrew began to pass scrolls out to those in attendence. Many opened theirs immediately, but Snape did not. He eyed Pettigrew with great scorn, as did most in the chamber.

"These curses are quite powerful and will be excellent for intimidation purposes. McNair, I expect you to begin using them immediately." Voldemort surveyed the group disinterestedly. "I shall be summoning some of you this week. Be prepared." He disappeared.

The meeting began to break up. Snape was desperate to get back to Hogwarts and confirm Bellatrix's story. If it were true, he would need to inform Dumbledore immediately. He was edging his way out when an unfamiliar Death Eater stopped him.

"I hear Potter's going back to Little Whinging at Christmas." The willowy woman remarked.

"If that's true, I haven't heard a word of it." Snape lied warily. Who was this woman?

"Is that so?" She obviously did not believe him.

"It would be a perfect opportunity." Snape continued. "If only I can get Dumbledore to talk."

"I think we'll be getting some information quite soon. You're not the only person at school who has access to information."

Snape was getting nervous. "And how do you know so much about the school?" He queried coolly.

"You don't honestly think you're the only person the Dark Lord has keeping an ear out at Hogwarts, do you? Especially when you continually fail to bring him the information he so desperately desires."

Detecting a veiled threat, Snape felt a cold dread in the pit of his stomach. Did the Dark Lord doubt his loyalty? It felt as if everything was closing in on him, but he could not allow himself to lose control. He could sense that the woman's mind was peripherally closed, but her defenses were weak. It would be a simple matter to break into her mind, but he would be unable to do so without her detecting it. That would surely blow his cover. He could not risk it.

As desperate as he was to leave, Snape knew he must attempt to gain more information. Prying further, he found to his dismay, that she knew a fair amount about both the school and Harry Potter.

"Who are you?" He finally demanded in frustration, certain he would not receive a response.

There was a moment of tense silence until the woman finally answered "Claudia".

Severus dropped his wand in shock. He would ask no more questions. Snatching it up off the floor, he swept out of the room, telling anyone who would listen that Dumbledore was summoning him back to the castle.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

Chapter 15

The Great Hall had just emptied from breakfast when Snape finally returned to Hogwarts. He urgently needed to see Dumbledore - to warn him about the informant he had encountered and alert him to Harry's alleged attempt at the Cruciatus Curse. Striding straight to the Headmaster's office, he let himself in with Dumbledore's juvenile password. As he climbed the spiral staircase, Snape could not help but feel somewhat calmer. Dumbledore would soon be aware of the situation and could begin working out some strategies.

Seated at the Headmaster's desk, however, was not Albus Dumbledore but Minerva McGonagall. She rose upon seeing him.

"Severus, thank heavens! We were concerned when you had not returned by breakfast." She sounded relieved. "Are you alright?"

"Good morning, Professor McGonagall. I am fine but it is imperative that I speak with the Headmaster immediately."

McGonagall looked worried. "He's in London. Should we summon him back?"

Snape nodded, maddened by the delay. "Yes, I think that would be prudent."

"I hope Alastor will be able to manage on his own," she murmured, pulling out her wand.

Snape reached out to prevent her from using it. "He's with Moody?"

McGonagall nodded.

Snape's eyes narrowed. He neither liked nor trusted Alastor Moody. "When is the Headmaster expected back?"

"Late this afternoon."

"It can wait until then. Please relay the message that I must speak with him upon his return." Snape turned on his heel to leave.

"I will inform him as soon as he returns," McGonagall replied, eyeing him over her spectacles.

Glancing back over his shoulder, Snape told her that he would need to see Harry Potter that afternoon in his office.

"He has class," McGonagall answered automatically, her tone stern.

Snape sighed in exasperation. Turning back to face her, he told her in no uncertain terms that he must meet with the boy as soon as possible. He made allusions to the study of Occlumency that he knew the Transfiguration teacher would not understand.

McGonagall scowled, obviously unused to being spoken to in such a manner, but she seemed just able to tolerate it from Severus Snape. She sighed. "Since that is your area of expertise, I have to assume that you know best. I'll see that he's excused from class."

Snape nodded, flinching slightly as he exited the office. His mind was working feverishly on the identity of the spy. Had the Dark Lord sent her because he doubted Snape's loyalty? He shuddered inwardly at the implications.

His last potions class seemed to last forever. He sat through it feeling tense and distracted. Not even rising to dismiss his class, he remained at his desk while the third years filed out. Absently, he tugged on a long strand of his hair as he waited for Harry Potter to present himself. It occurred to him that it might be better for Dumbledore to approach Potter first but in his absence Snape hoped to at least determine what had happened. It weighed too heavily on his mind to delay resolving it.

It was not long before the teenager appeared in the classroom. Apparently unnerved at being summoned by Snape, he shifted nervously in front of the instructor's desk.

Snape eyed him with contempt, wishing he were addressing any other student but this one. "Is there something we need to discuss, Potter?"

"Sir?"

"I am asking you if there is anything I or your Headmaster should know about."

Harry looked blank. Clearly he did not know what Snape was referring to.

Uncertain how best to continue, Snape sat back tracing his upper lip with his index finger. "One hears rumors," he began softly, forcing himself to remain calm, "of some very powerful curses, which have issued from the wand of Mr. Harry Potter."

"If you're talking about Malfoy -" Harry started.

Snape did not even hear the rest. "No, I'm not talking about Malfoy." He wanted to scream. He gripped the edge of the desk. As much as he loathed the boy, he knew he had to handle this correctly or risk pushing him even further down the wrong path, destroying any possibility of Dumbledore's plan ever working.

"Haven't any of your instructors ever warned you about the dangers of using even mild curses?" Snape asked quietly.

"No, sir," Harry replied, shaking his head. He eyed his teacher intently, clearly interested for once in what Snape had to say.

The Potions Master breathed. He was making an impression. "Curses are fueled by the basest of emotions. Moreover, casting one produces a false sense of power. Once you tap into that, it can be extremely difficult to extricate yourself from it."

Harry continued to listen.

I can get through to him, thought Snape. I can draw him out without damaging him further. He continued, barely above a whisper. "Your connection with the Dark Lord makes you particularly vulnerable to the Dark Arts "

There was a soft cough from the open doorway. Snape jumped, cursing himself for leaving the door open. He had been so distracted by the odious prospect of conducting a civil conversation with James Potter's son.

"What do you want?" he demanded, spying Ginny Weasley.

She appeared confused standing in the doorway with a stack of books and scrolls.

"Professor Lupin excused me from Defense Against the Dark Arts. He said there was an important Occlumency session."

Snape stalked across the room and slammed the dungeon door shut with a clang. "Yes, so there is," he hissed giving Potter a significant look.

Inwardly he seethed. Lupin! If Lupin were even mildly competent, Snape would not have to spend his time dealing with this situation. He glared at the two students. As much as he hated Harry, he did not understand the girl. He was getting nowhere with her in Occlumency. Her mind was so difficult to penetrate casually. Snape found it maddeningly frustrating - not that it would be this afternoon. He would only be penetrating Potter's mind in an attempt to determine if the boy was involved in any Dark activity.

Closing them into his office, Snape allowed Harry to draw his wand. The boy was clearly agitated as if he knew perfectly well that his teacher's attempt to treat this as a regular lesson was just a pretext. Ginny, too, seemed to sense that something was afoot but she appeared more curious. Already Snape could sense his pupil beginning to defend his mind against outside attacks.

Snape smirked. As if the boy had any hope of closing his mind to him if he were truly attempting to break through.

"I shall be attempting to break into your mind." He recited the familiar words blandly for the benefit of Ginny Weasley. He continued with the usual speech but his mind was already focused on prying into the boy's mind. He felt the cold weight of his wand's handle in his palm as he pointed it at Harry.

"Ready Potter?"

Harry did not answer but nodded slightly.

As Snape uttered the incantation, Ginny let out a small gasp. Ignoring the girl, he let his mind reach out to the boy, sensing Harry's feeble attempts to push him away. Concentrating his own efforts he willed the boy to drop his defenses. To his surprise, Harry still managed to ward him off, this time more forcefully.

"Open your mind!" He mentally called out to the teenager. "Relinquish control to me. Do not struggle against me."

Unfortunately Snape's own work with the boy prevented this tactic from being effective. Harry's mind remained closed. Abandoning any hope of manipulating the boy into allowing him access, Snape now had to force his way in. Focusing harder he broke into Potter's head.

His own head began to swim with random images. Still he sensed Potter's attempts to push him out but they were growing much weaker. Suddenly Snape felt desperately afraid; he disregarded it knowing it he was channeling the boy's emotions. Still he knew fear could be a powerful marker for Dark Activity. He probed deeper. The further he intruded into the boy's mind the less aware he became of what was going on around him. Vaguely he noticed Harry crumple to the floor.

Images of hooded Death Eaters flashed like lightning in his mind. Focusing on the image, he struggled to tune it in. Fuzzy figures loomed in his head while his ears echoed with screams. Over everything were the high-pitched shrieks of Bellatrix Lestrange. He pressed further but as he did the boy's mind instantly snapped shut like a clam. Snape was perplexed. He could not believe the boy had the strength left to resist him. He was guarding something with his last efforts.

Snape understood that to push any further would hurt the boy. He himself was beginning to shake from the exertion. Yet he had to know what it was that Potter was keeping so carefully. He propelled his mind even deeper into Harry's, focusing on the shriek he had heard, but it was like he had hit a wall. He could go no further.

Snape went completely rigid channeling all of his energies into forcibly breaking down the boy's defenses. Groaning, Harry moved convulsively on the floor. At last Snape had broken through.

Suddenly, Harry's emotions came rushing through him. No longer afraid, Snape felt exhilarated, powerful, as if he were becoming stronger every minute.

Ginny was visibly unsettled. Snape could vaguely hear her protesting but she seemed miles away.

"Stop it, Snape!" she cried. "Leave him alone or I'll get someone down here." She seemed to flit about the office, no more than an annoying insect to the Legilimens.

"I'm going to get McGonagall," she threatened. "I'm bringing down the Headmaster."

Snape turned a deaf ear to her. He no longer cared what she knew or thought she knew because with a wild thrill he suddenly recognized the source of the emotions he had tapped in Harry. He knew because he had felt the very same rush of excitement many times before, though not for many years. It was the same sensation that came with the casting of a very Dark Curse, the curses he had used when he had served Lord Voldemort, the Unforgivable Curses.

He could feel invigorating warmth creeping up his arm as if he had just cast the spell himself. In his mind's eye he could see Bellatrix Lestrange twisting grotesquely in front of him, could hear her screams. Instantly, Snape knew that Harry had used the Cruciatus Curse on her, used it with the desire to cause pain, and used it to gain pleasure from that pain. And by using it he would have gained powers unattainable through conventional magic.

Having discovered the truth, Snape knew that he should immediately break the connection. He had already gone in much too far and every moment more would cause even greater harm to Harry. Still he knew the instant he broke the spell he would cease to channel Harry's thoughts and emotions and Snape was loath to give up this soaring sense of power. He simply could not bring himself to lift the spell though he knew he must.

If he could just borrow Harry's mind a little longer he could continue to feel invigorated and alive. For just a few moments he could escape his own numb, empty shell, tapping into a force far greater than himself - a force he had renounced what now seemed a lifetime ago. He stretched out his arms, relishing the heating the heated power coursing through his veins. His eyes widened; a twisted smile played on his lips. His heart beat wildly with excitement and his breath quickened. But the louder his own heart beat in his ears, the dimmer and more distorted the images from Harry's mind became. The boy was fading - his eyes rolled in their sockets and he moaned weakly.

It was insanity to continue. Snape knew he risked causing permanent damage to the boy yet he no longer cared. All that mattered now was this exhilarating sensation and his connection to Harry's mind. Snape could not bring himself to let it go.

Suddenly he heard screams but they were not coming from Harry's mind. It was Ginny Weasley crying out as if she herself was being tortured. The sound of her cries snapped Snape back to his senses. It was as if the bottom had dropped out beneath him. What had he done? With an effort he dropped his wand, instantly breaking the connection.

Harry Potter lay unconscious on the floor. Ginny stood mutely at his side gaping at her teacher with undistilled horror. Snape instinctively moved towards the boy but, as he did so, Ginny shrank back away from him. The full horror of what he had done hit him and Snape fled the room.

He did not stop until he was several passages away. Panting, he leaned against the cool stone wall trying to pull himself together. He was appalled and terrified that he had so completely lost control. He had thought his struggles with the Dark Arts were over long ago but he now realized how easy it would be to get sucked back in. And if he, Snape, with all his knowledge of the Dark Arts could be tempted - what chance did the Potter kid have with all his ignorance and vulnerabilities?

His Headmaster calling his name interrupted his thoughts. Snape did not respond and Dumbledore stepped more quickly, his purple robes swishing around him.

"Severus, you look terrible. Are you alright?"

Snape nodded.

"Minerva tells me things did not go well last night. I came down to find you."

"Have you been in my office?" Snape asked fearing the answer.

"No," Dumbledore replied shooting him a quizzical look. "We can speak in my office."

"There's a spy," Snape informed him the minute they reached the office.

Dumbledore appeared grave. "How do you know?"

Snape explained how one of the Death Eaters had stopped him the previous night. He stole several glances at the door, convinced that someone would come rushing in to say that Harry Potter was in the hospital wing and that he, Snape, had put him there.

The silver-haired man leaned back at his desk and put the tips of his fingers together.

"Is she in the Order?"

Snape shook his head. "I don't think so. The schools the connection. She knows too much. I have not yet worked out whether she is actually here or has a very good informant."

Dumbledore nodded. "I'm sure no names were used. Did Voldemort refer to her at all?"

Snape hesitated for a fraction of a second. "No name was given, Headmaster, but I think the Dark Lord may be using her to spy on me. It is possible he may question where my loyalties lie."

Now Dumbledore took on a stricken expression. He rose slowly and treaded around the desk to where Snape was seated.

"Severus," He started slowly. "I can't ask you to continue doing this when the danger is becoming so grave."

Snape sat motionless in his chair.

"I can try to hide you," Dumbledore continued with little apparent conviction. "Move you to a safer location."

Snape arched his eyebrows. Surely his Headmaster knew that he would be unable to hide from these people even if he wanted to. He must also know that Voldemort would never let him go. There could be escape for Snape that way.

"I do what I must," he muttered. "This changes nothing."

Stepping back, Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully. "You are a brave man, Severus," he declared, nodding sagely.

Snape allowed himself to feel some degree of satisfaction from the comment. His efforts were seldom recognized. He rose and strode toward the door.

"You've informed Potter then?" Dumbledore called.

Snape froze. "Sir?"

"About the spy - Minerva said you wanted to speak with him."

Snape mumbled something back. It was vital to inform Dumbledore about the Cruciatus Curse but Snape did not wish to mention his intrusion into the teenager's mind, particularly how pleasurable the experience had been. He himself was so disturbed by the incident that he could not trust himself to speak about it. Snape stepped out but lingered by the door still conflicted about what course of action to take.

As he was deliberating, his mind wandered back to Remus Lupin as it had earlier in the day. He could not help but feel that much of the problem stemmed from Lupin. After all, Lupin was supposed to be Harry's mentor. Dumbledore had assured him that Lupin would keep Harry Potter out of the Dark Arts. Yet clearly, Lupin was oblivious to the fact that Harry was at risk, that he had even gone so far as to cast an unforgivable curse. Snape, of course, had predicted as much but Dumbledore had chosen not to heed his warnings. In fact, he continued to appoint the werewolf to important tasks and praised his efforts.

Snape let out a low hiss at the very thought of it all. If Dumbledore wanted Lupin to take charge of Potter, that was fine by Snape. He was most anxious to hear what the headmaster would have to say about Lupin when it became clear that Lupin had not kept little Potter from the temptations of the Dark. Snape would say nothing to Dumbledore about it. It was Lupin's problem now and Snape washed his hands of it.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

Author's Note: Thanks to my new typist** Lady Evenstar**. Also, I appreciate all you faithful readers who come back each week. See you next Friday!

Chapter Sixteen

"Harry! Harry!" He could hear his name being called as if from the other side of a tunnel. He tried to ignore it, but someone was shaking him quite roughly. Squinting, he forced his eyes open only to be hit by a wave of nausea as the room spun wildly about him. Groaning, he re-closed his eyes.

"Harry! Wake up!" This time was more insistent.

Harry forced himself to open his eyes. A blurry face hovered above him, white and frightened. The voice sounded vaguely familiar but he could not place it.

"Huh?" he muttered thickly, groping to comprehend what had happened.

She shook him again. Harry thought he might be sick.

"Harry, it's Ginny!"

Harry searched his mind for the girl but still could not remember her. In fact, when he searched his mind it felt unpleasantly like it had been emptied.

Ginny helped to prop him up against the dungeon walls. He clutched desperately at the sleeve of her robes in an attempt to stave off the vertigo. Suddenly he felt a burning sensation on his forehead. He cried aloud and clasped a hand to it.

"It's your scar," Ginny explained sympathetically.

Harry nodded to show his comprehension. His thinking was becoming clearer.

"What happened?" he asked groggily.

"Snape," Ginny answered wryly. "He broke into your mind and refused to break the connection."

Slowly, Harry began to reconstruct the events of the afternoon. He recalled Snape summoning him down to the office to discuss the Dark Arts. He could even remember Snape casting the Legilimens spell - but, after that, nothing. He closed his eyes hoping to ease the dizziness.

"I think you need to go to the hospital wing," Ginny said after a time.

"No," Harry replied weakly but resolutely. He was fairly certain that he knew why Snape had been so anxious to get into his head and he feared the reason might come out if he showed up anywhere in this condition. He expected Ginny to argue and try to press him into going but she merely nodded, appearing thoughtful.

"Let's go somewhere we can talk," she whispered finally, helping him to his feet.

Harry, unfortunately, was very ill indeed and nearly fell right back over. Leaning very heavily on Ginny, he shuffled forward nearly treading on a wand left on the stone floor.

"Ginny, you dropped your wand."

"No, it's Snape's."

"He left his wand?" Harry asked incredulously.

"Harry, I'm telling you. He literally ran out of this room." She paused. "There was something very strange about the whole thing. Something … unnatural." The observation was made shrewdly.

Harry swallowed hard. Snape must know that he had tried to use the Cruciatus Curse. Why had he run from the room? To announce to the whole school that he was a Dark Wizard? To turn him in to the Aurors? Would he be going to Azkaban?

The pair slowly made their way out of the room but to his surprise, Ginny turned them deeper into the dungeons. Where on earth was she going? Finally they stopped in a damp, darkened corner that appeared not to have seen life in over 100 years. Pulling out her wand, Ginny tapped a crack in the wall. A slab of stone slid open revealing a small chamber.

"We won't be overheard in here," she murmured pulling him in.

Harry gaped around the hidden room with wonder. In contrast to the surrounding halls, the room had a distinctive, lived-in look to it. Furnished with bookshelves, office furniture, a cauldron and various places to sit, it could have been a teacher's office except in the middle of the room where a large, ugly stone statue of Salazar Slytherin stood.

"This is brilliant, Ginny. How did you find it?"

Depositing him into a chair, Ginny answered him casually. "I've been coming down here since I started school. I found it during my first year."

Harry could not believe that she had kept such a secret for five years. Last year they had been searching for a place to hold DA meetings but Ginny had said nothing about this.

"It's not on the Marauders Map," he observed.

"No, it's not on any map - but Tonks reckons she found it when she was at school."

The girl bustled around lighting a fire with her wand and resealing the door. "Sorry about him," she said indicating the statue. I've tried to banish or transfigure it but nothing worked. It seems resistant to any type of spell. I know - typical Slytherin." She tossed an extra robe over his head.

Slumped in his chair, Harry could barely stand the pain from his scar. In addition, the room continued to spin, although his thinking had become much clearer. He worried about what Snape might be doing and dreaded what he might have to face once he left the dungeons.

"Drink this. I think it will help," Ginny said offering him a flask. "It's a Pepper-Up Potion."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "You're brewing potions down here?"

"One doesn't want to have to go to Madam Pomfrey every time one gets a headache," she commented darkly.

Grateful for any prospect of relief, Harry gulped down the nasty liquid. "Thanks, Ginny." He glanced around the room again. "How often do you come here?"

Ginny sat down next to him. "Whenever I need some time alone. Privacy is hard to come by in a boarding school and not much easier in a family of nine."

Harry nodded, pressing his hands to his eyes. They were watering from the pain in his head.

Ginny watched him sadly. "Harry, what happened?" she asked after a time.

"I'm not sure," Harry said grimacing with the strain of trying to remember. "I can't recall. Snape - I just couldn't fight him off."

Ginny's eyes glinted like gems. "Snape wasn't tinkering around randomly. He was looking for something, wasn't he?"

The boy looked down, reluctant to share the truth. Ginny continued to watch him intently. Finally, he met her eyes, noticing for the first time how striking they were. He stared into them as if transfixed.

"Tell me about Bellatrix Lestrange," she directed quietly as if she were merely asking him to tell her a story.

To his own surprise, Harry found himself relating the incident in the Ministry where he had attempted to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange. He had never told another living soul about it.

Cocking her head slightly, she regarded him thoughtfully. Ginny did not appear shocked or horrified as Harry had feared. She merely eyed him as if she were examining a rather interesting specimen of some sort.

"How does Snape know about it?" she asked finally.

Harry shrugged weakly sinking further into his chair. "Does it matter? You know he's up there right now telling everyone he can."

"I'm not so sure, Harry," Ginny relied soberly. "Not with what Snape did to you. She shuddered. "It was well beyond the bounds of anything acceptable. Harry, he could have permanently damaged your brain. You could have wound up like Neville's parents."

Harry's eyes widened. He had not realized the danger he had been in. Ginny reached out and touched his arm sympathetically.

"You have to tell someone what he did."

"I can't Ginny. They'll find out about the Cruciatus Curse."

He did not need to explain further. Ginny seemed to understand at once. "You can tell Lupin. He'll keep your confidence."

Lupin would keep his confidence, thought Harry, but he would not sit there calmly like Ginny had when he told her about the curse. Lupin would be disgusted, probably horrified, and Harry could not bear to have Lupin think that way about him. He shook his head.

Ginny sighed. "I don't know what we're going to do then. You can't stay down here all night and you're in no shape to return. Are you feeling any better?"

"I think so. The potion seems to have helped some."

Ginny glanced over at the bookshelf. "Just relax and get some rest while I try to work out what to do."

Grateful not to have to continue keeping up a cpnversation, Harry watched Ginny take a book from the shelf and begin to leaf through it. Sitting down at the desk, she put her chin in her hands as if deep in thought. Harry closed his eyes.

"I think this will work," Ginny announced a short time later. "We tell them that your scar is hurting very badly."

"What?" Harry could not see how that would help.

"It's simple," Ginny continued. "If we tell them you're sick, they'll send you to the hospital wing but if we say it's your scar, they won't want to draw any attention to it - they'll let you stay in the dorm."

That's probably true, Harry thought, impressed by the plan. "But if I tell them it's my scar, they'll think Lord Voldemort's up to something."

Ginny twirled a lock of hair around her finger. "Well, he probably is up to something." She continued in a more serious tone. "Harry, I just don't think we have another option."

Harry reluctantly agreed to Ginny's plan; however, he was in no hurry to put it into action. "Where did you get all this stuff?" he asked, partly out of curiosity and partly as a stalling technique.

"The furniture I found around the castle, same thing with the cauldron. Most of the books I bought second-hand in Hogsmeade. Tonks sent me a couple as well."

"Ginny, some of those books are in the library. You can borrow them anytime."

The girl gave him an almost pitying look. "Harry, a lot of those books are flagged and as soon as you check one out it goes on a list to your Head of House."

Harry did not think it was true and told her so.

She rolled her eyes. "Harry, I've done detention with Madam Pince. It's true. When you checked out _A Survey of Dark Power_, McGonagall was notified immediately."

Harry's stomach churned. He did not like the idea that people were watching what he read.

"But you can come down here anytime and read or just hang out. I'll show you how to get in. Only it's just for us. You won't tell anyone, right?"

Harry promised he would not.

Ginny smiled at him sweetly, her eyes sparkling. She went over to the cauldron and gave it a quick stir before dipping out two flasks, one of which she handed to Harry.

"Put this in your robe - it's a sleeping potion," she instructed as she put the other flasks into her own robe.

Harry looked at it doubtfully.

"You need to rest your mind," she told him. "A good night's sleep is the best thing for you."

"I don't know, Ginny. I'm supposed to close my mind before I go to sleep."

"You won't be able to close you mind. It's too strained," she said matter-of-factly. Softening her tone, she continued. "Has the Dark Lord attempted to invade your mind?"

Furrowing his forehead in concentration, Harry answered slowly, "It's hard to tell but I don't really think so. I guess Occlumency must be having some benefit."

"Thats's good."

Ginny put out the fire and helped Harry to his feet. He was still extremely weak and Ginny practically had to hold him up. They finally arrived in Gryffindor Tower to find it empty. Everyone was at dinner. The pair stumbled up the stairs to the dormitory and Harry collapsed into his bed. When Harry was settled, Ginny left to alert McGonagall to his situation.

A short time later there was a knock at the door and Professors McGonagall and Lupin let themselves in.

"What's this, Potter?" McGonagall asked peering down at him. "Miss Weasley says you are not well."

"My scar hurts," he replied blearily.

Lupin and McGonagall exchanged looks. 'is there anything else we need to know?" she asked somewhat sternly.

The boy shook his head.

McGonagall informed him that he would not be going to the hospital wing, just as Ginny had predicted. He would remain in the dormitory and be excused from classes tomorrow, including, to his great relief, "Remedial Potions." Ron would be getting his assignments from his teachers.

She consulted with Lupin. "Can Severus send up something for pain?"

Lupin shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid not. Anything he takes can leave his mind vulnerable to Voldemort."

McGonagall flinched at the name. She waved her wand and a pitcher of ice water appeared on Harry's bedside table.

"I'll send Winky up later with some dinner," she informed him. "Let me know immediately if you start to feel worse." Her expression softened and she poured the boy a glass of water.

Mumbling his thanks, Harry gulped it down.

"Are you coming back to dinner, Remus?"

"No, I'll stay with Harry until his classmates return."

Professor McGonagall left to return to the Great Hall and Lupin conjured a chair for himself by Harry's bedside. Harry was glad not to be left alone.

"Did everything go well in Occlumency?" he asked quietly.

Harry nodded with a guilty feeling. He hated lying to Lupin especially when he was so clearly concerned about him.

Lupin proceeded to quiz him about his scar pain but Harry told him he flet too lousy to talk. It was true. Harry's head felt like it had been through a meat grinder.

"That's fine. You get some rest. I'm just going to wait here for a bit." He pulled out his wand. "Accio paper," he commanded. A copy of the _Daily Prophet_ came hurtling towards him. "Let me know if you need anything."

Harry closed his eyes, trying to relax in spite of the pain. Lupin stayed until he heard the thundering of footsteps on the stairs.

Ron was the first one in the dormitory. He dumped a pile of scrolls on Harry's bed. "Here's your work, mate," he said breezily. His eyes widened apparently taken aback by Harry's appearance. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously.

Harry nodded weakly.

"I'll let you get some sleep then," Ron said pulling Harry's bed curtains shut. "No one bothers Harry tonight," he told the other boys. "He doesn't feel well."

Harry knew he was in for a miserable night as he felt far too wretched to sleep. It was then that he remembered the potion Ginny had given him. He felt a little uneasy about taking it but Ginny was right. He could not close his mind. It was like trying to use a hand with no bones in it. The best he could hope for was that he would be better in the morning. He swallowed the potion and immediately began to feel drowsy. Closing his eyes, he fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

Author's Note: Next Week is the beginning of the Ministerial Gala. Look for Lupin, Tonks, Weasleys, and Lucius Malfoy!

Chapter Seventeen

Two days later Harry was back in class but hardly recovered. He found that he had very little memory of the incident in Occulmency and his brain was working very slowly. Classes were a struggle. To make matters worse, he was terrified that Snape would inform someone that he had attempted to use an Unforgivable Curse. More than anything, he found himself wanting to talk to Ginny again. Her mere presence would be a reassurance to Harry, but every time he saw her she was surrounded by a group of girlfriends or out on the grounds with her new boyfriend, Anthony Goldstein.

He was relieved when it was finally Friday afternoon and the only thing standing between him and a Hogsmeade weekend was Defense Against the Dark Arts. This was easily Harry's favorite class. Not only was it one of the few classes that he had with both Ron and Hermione but Dumbledore had turned out to be a truly inspired teacher. His classes were so large that he was unable to teach all four houses at once. As a result, Gryffindor was once again paired with Slytherin. Dumbledore did not place any entrance requirements on the class so nearly everyone took it. With Voldemort returned, the skills learned in class could well prove necessary.

"Harry, you're not concentrating," Hermione complained. "Watch this." She waved her wand and a glowing circle appeared around her.

They had just learned to cast a Circle of Protection Spell. Theoretically the circle would protect the caster from a number of unfriendly spells but Harry was having trouble with it. Their teacher had split them into pairs to practice but Harry was not picking it up as quickly as he usually did given his inability to focus his mind.

"Very well, ladies and gentlemen. Please find your seats and we'll discuss appropriate applications of this spell," Dumbledore called out over the classroom din.

After they found their seats, several students volunteered responses. Harry half-listened, frustrated with his performance.

"I don't see the use of it," Pansy Parkinson commented. "It's not going to do anything to an attacker."

Dumbledore surveyed the girl over his half-moon spectacles. "It's a defensive spell, Pansy. It's meant for protection."

Several of the Slytherin students snorted with disdain. Harry distinctly heard Blaise Zambini mumbling about the superiority of the Dark Arts.

Dumbledore shot him a withering look.

Draco Malfoy raised his hand. "Isn't it true, sir, that the Dark Arts are more powerful than traditional magic?" He asked it politely but there was a challenge implicit in his tone.

"No, that's not true," Dumbledore replied without hesitation. "But that is a common misconception."

Harry's ears perked up. He had been very interested in what Snape had had to say about the Dark Arts before Ginny Weasley interrupted them.

"The power of the Dark Arts comes from fear, hatred, intolerance - our worst instincts. Because of that it is not difficult to become fairly strong quite rapidly. Much more quickly than in traditional magic where we must rely on discipline and draw on our own inner strengths and reserves."

"So the Dark Arts are stronger," Dean Thomas observed in a voice tinged with disappointment.

Dumbledore flashed him a slight smile. "You misunderstood me, Dean. Power comes quickly in the Dark Arts but you don't control it. It controls you."

Several students exchanged confused glances.

"You see," the old wizard continued, "when you tap into the Dark Arts you are tapping into something that is not entirely of your own making. This is what allows a neophyte to perform potent spells. Does anyone see a danger in that?"

Most of Harry's classmates had no response but Hermione's hand flew into the air and Dumbledore called on her.

She answered slowly and thoughtfully as if she had not quite worked out the answer. "Well, if part of the power of the spell is coming from outside the caster, couldn't someone manipulate it?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That is correct, Hermione. A powerful Dark sorcerer can manipulate it to his own ends. That is one of the ways in which Lord Voldemort continue to gain strength - through the Dark magic of his followers."

He paused as the class whispered and shuddered at the sound of Voldemort's name.

"The other hazard is less obvious but just as dangerous. Once you start using Dark Magic, it is extremely difficult to discontinue. It gives you a very strong sense of power and connection. One that is quite difficult to let go of. Very few truly Dark wizards are able to forsake them entirely and those that do often find that they are no longer capable of achieving the same level of power they once had."

Dumbledore was speaking to the entire class but Harry felt as if he were speaking only to him. Did Dumbledore know that Harry had tried to use a Cruciatus Curse? Had he started down a path from which there was no return? Glancing at Draco Malfoy, Harry had to wonder how different they really were.

His teacher appeared ready to dismiss the class when he noted a single hand in the air.

'Yes, Neville?"

"Is Occlumency considered a Dark Art?" the boy asked somewhat coldly.

Harry started and Hermione gasped. Ron poked him in the arm and the three stared at each other. Did Neville know about his lessons with Snape?

No one else seemed to know what Neville was talking about although Malfoy eyed the instructor with interest.

Dumbledore regarded the round-faced boy silently. "Occlumency is not considered a Dark Art," he finally answered softly. "It's a defense of the mind against incursion from an outside source." He turned from the class.

"What about Legilimens?" Neville shot back loudly.

Dumbledore froze. He turned slowly to face the boy. "In some context Legilimens can be considered a Dark Art," he replied bracingly.

The old wizard's gaze swept across the classroom. The exchange was beginning to draw attention.

"As it is a Hogsmeade weekend," he continued with twinkling eyes, "I'm sure no one wants to be trapped in this dismal room listening to an intellectual discussion about an obscure branch of magic. If you want to discuss this further, I'll gladly stay after with you, Neville, but the rest of the class is dismissed."

Evidently Neville did not want to discuss it any further as he grabbed his books and stalked out of the room.

"What was all that about?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, noting an expression of concern on Hermione's face.

"Do you think he know about your Occlumency lessons?" she asked when they had left the room.

"I don't really see how he could," Harry answered. "But that was a very strange coincidence."

"Neville doesn't seem too keen on Dumbledore these days," Ron added. "Maybe he thinks he could have done more about the situation last year with the Ministry and all."

No one gave Neville a second thought as they planned their day in Hogsmeade. Ron was especially excited about going as Percy told him to get some new dress robes for the Ministerial Gala the following weekend.

"And money's no object," he told them proudly. "He says if I'm going to be his guest I have to look the part."

Ron's enthusiasm for Percy and the Gala only seemed to grow as they walked out toward Hogsmeade the following day.

"Everyone's going to be there," he chattered excitedly. "All of the Ministry and all the best families."

'The best families?" Hermione snorted. "What's that supposed to mean? The Purebloods?"

Ron flushed. "I didn't mean it like that, Hermione. You know I'm not prejudiced but we only have one more year left in school and if I want to be successful I need to make some connections."

Hermione did not reply and did not look appeased.

"After all," Ron laughed, "there should be some benefit to putting up with Percy all of these years."

"How does he like being Minister of Magic?" Harry asked quietly, hoping to avoid a row between the two friends.

"You know Percy. It's his dream come true. I figured that he would be worried after what happened to Fudge but he doesn't feel threatened at all. I guess it's the Gryffindor in him."

They decided - Ron decided - to buy the dress robes first and then grab a drink in the Three Broomsticks. Gladrags Wizardwear was extremely crowded. Apparently Ron was not the only one shopping for the Gala. They were making their way to the back of the store when Hermione nearly tripped.

'Oh, I'm so sorry," she said, reaching down to help up Professor Flitwick.

"It's no trouble at all, Miss Granger." He beamed at the three of them. "Are you shopping for dress robes for your brother's party?" he asked Ron.

Ron nodded. "Are you going as well?"

"Me? Oh, no. I'm here with Professor Lupin. We've got to make him presentable for the Gala."

Harry looked past his Charms instructor and found Lupin in line at a cash register. The sign above the register read "Sophisticated Looks for Bargain Prices." Lupin spotted him and waved.

Harry was glad to see him looking so cheerful but could not help but feel a little envious that he was not going to the Gala himself. The students that were going were all getting passes from school for the evening and had been talking about it for weeks.

Picking out a dress robe for Ron took far longer than Harry had anticipated, as he had to try on nearly every robe in the store. Hermione appeared to take more interest in the process than Harry did, critiquing each one. She too, however, seemed relieved when Ron finally decided on one.

"Charge it to the Minister," he instructed them grandly and they headed to the pub.

When they reached the Three Broomsticks they found it no less crowded than the rest of town.

"You guys find a seat and I'll get us some drinks," Hermione said pushing her way towards the bar.

Harry and Ron found a small table and sat down.

"Look there's Ginny," said Ron, "and Tonks."

Looking up eagerly, Harry saw Ginny and Tonks walk out the door. He frowned.

"We just missed Ginny," he informed Hermione when she returned.

"Ginny doesn't seem too excited about the Gala," Hermione commented. "You'd think she would be glad of a night out of Hogwarts."

"She's still upset with Percy," Ron noted. "Dad told her it was important for the Order to get on with the Ministry but you know Ginny. She can hold a grudge."

Harry fingered his bottle absently. He only half-heard what they were saying because there was something that had been on his mind for a while that he wanted to bring up.

"Don't you think it's a bit odd for Tonks to be spending so much time with Ginny?"

Ron did not seem to think much of it but Hermione apparently agreed with Harry.

"Last summer Tonks would not leave me alone," she recalled. "She was always trying to hang out with me and asked me tons of questions. I thought it was a bit much."

Ron laughed. "Well, I guess she'll be spending all her time with Lupin now!"

Hermione chuckled as well but Harry still felt uneasy. He wanted to comment further but before he could Luna Lovegood made a beeline for them across the room. Her blond hair was split into several sections and partially braided, giving her a typically flighty appearance.

She looked directly at Ron. "Your brother's Minister of Magic?"

It was a strange question as it was common knowledge that Ron's brother was indeed Minister of Magic. Harry and Hermione stifled grins. They were used to Luna's unusual behavior but knew that she had proven herself a faithful ally.

"Why is your brother having an inaugural party when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out murdering people every day? Does that seem like an appropriate time for a celebration?"

Ron's jaw dropped and he stared as if he had never considered it from that perspective before.

"It is traditional," Hermione noted primly, "For a new Minister."

"Even when his predecessor has been assassinated?"

No one had a response to that so Luna pressed on.

"My father believes that the Ministry only exists to serve itself and citizens can only protect themselves from You-Know-Who if they take matters into their own hands."

"Anarchy?" Hermione quipped. "Interesting approach."

"The Lovegoods will not make this crisis a party political. I hope you feel the same, Ronald." With that remark Luna turned and drifted out of the pub.

"So I'm guessing the Lovegoods were not invited to the Gala," Harry murmured sarcastically.

They all had a good laugh at that, even Ron who seemed kind of moody after the exchange.

Even their large bags of Honeydukes sweets could not make the weekend last forever. By midweek Harry found himself back in the dungeons dreading another Occlumency lesson.

"How are you feeling?" Ginny asked while they waited for their teacher to show himself.

"I feel okay. My head's still pretty foggy, though. I won't be able to handle too much Snape," he confessed wryly.

"He won't bother you today," Ginny predicted.

Snape's office flew open, nearly knocking Harry off his feet. Snape stalked out into the hall and glanced towards the stone staircase. Muttering angrily, he returned to the office summoning the pair in.

For the first time in years, Harry felt afraid of the Potions Master and what he might do. Snape did not appear comfortable either, barely looking at the boy and addressing all his comments to Ginny. He seemed reluctant to start and glared down at the girl with his arms folded.

It was then that Neville appeared in the doorway, looking miserable. In his arms was Dumbledore's Pensieve.

"The Headmaster asked me to bring this down."

"It's about time," Snape muttered pulling the basin away so forcefully that the liquid nearly sloshed out of it. "We need it for Remedial Potions," he sneered.

Neville shot Harry and Ginny an apologetic glance and left the room.

Turning his back on the students, Snape began to fill the Pensieve with his own memories. Ginny stood on her tiptoes and craned her neck to see. Harry shook his head vigorously at her, remembering the time he had peered into Snape's Pensieve and the disastrous consequences it had had.

The next half-hour Snape spent working with Ginny and ignoring Harry. Although this arrangement was satisfactory to Harry, he was beginning to get bored. Why doesn't he just let me go? He started to think when Snape suddenly fell rigidly to the floor.

"Oh, no," he breathed rushing over to his teacher.

"He's fine, just stunned," Ginny remarked casually, pocketing her wand.

Harry stared at her, wide-eyed. "You did this on purpose?" he asked in disbelief.

"Well, I certainly won't say that," she answered striding quickly over to the unattended Pensieve.

Realizing her intentions, Harry protested emphatically. "Ginny! I am telling you this is not a good idea!" He fidgeted anxiously glancing from the unconscious Snape to the poised Ginny.

But she was already standing in front of the Pensieve running her long fingers over the curved runes on the edges.

"Ginny, come one," he cried urgently. Snape could wake up at any minute. Was she mad?

She continued to examine the Pensieve as she might a new dress. It was as if she had no thought or care as to what consequences her actions might bring.

Harry stopped prodding her; frankly amazed at both her reckless behavior and her clam exterior. He reached for his wand knowing he should intone "Enervate" and wake Snape up. No sooner had he thought it than Ginny turned to face him. She brushed her hair behind and smiled impishly. It was at that moment that Harry succumbed to what he felt was her greatest power - he became her co-conspirator. He put away his wand and joined her at the Pensieve.

Bending his head down to look closer, he thought he heard a voice. Ginny must have heard it too, as he eyes widened. Together they bent their heads lower.

Ginny grabbed his arm. It was a voice! Someone was screaming, their voice broken by what was obviously unbearable anguish.

"Claudia! Claudia!"

Harry pulled the girl back, unnerved. He was shaken and did not want to hear that terrible cry again. Glancing at Ginny, he could see a tear coursing down her cheek. He raised his hand to brush it away but noticed Snape beginning to move. The two jumped apart and moved away from Snape's desk.

Snape leapt to his feet and rounded on Ginny who stood calmly rocking on her heels.

"I'm sorry, sir. I just couldn't fend you off that time."

Snape folded his arms and glanced over at the Pensieve. "A stunning spell?" he asked coolly.

Harry's heart was racing. Snape was obviously suspicious. They were in big trouble. Ginny appeared serene.

"I don't know what happened," she explained, all innocence. "You got in so far and the next thing I knew you had fallen."

Snape's eyes bored into hers. "You should not need your wand if you use your mind," he observed coldly.

Ginny was unflappable. "I just…" she paused. "I just lost control," she finished, stressing each syllable delicately and looking directly at Snape as if waiting for a reaction.

The Potions Master started then pulled on his stringy hair. His expression was unreadable. "Class dismissed," he uttered softly.

Harry and Ginny did not move but stared at their teacher.

"Dismissed!" he roared and the dungeon door slammed shut behind them.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

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**Author's Note:** Thanks for the review **Seduced by Severus**! While I have many faithful readers, I don't get a lot of reviews. It's great to get one. Snape is quite important to the story so you will be seeing more of him, but not for a couple of chapters.

Chapter Eighteen

When the evening of the Ministerial Gala arrived, all of the attending students were to gather in the Great Hall. Harry and Hermione were on their way out to see Hagrid but decided to stop by and see everyone off. Ron was already gone, excused earlier to assist Percy.

"I wish I were going," Hermione sighed. "Look how nice everyone looks."

A handful of students had assembled - all of them dressed to the nines. The girls all sported elaborate hairstyles while the boys appeared all business in their stylish new dress robes.

Harry and Hermione scanned the group for their friends. "Oh, there's Neville," Hermione said, pointing. "I didn't know he was going."

Following her gaze, Harry spotted Neville all smiles next to an unusually forlorn Ginny. Although still quite attractive, it was obvious to Harry that she had not fixed up for the occasion. Her hair hung straight as it did on school days and she was wearing the same dress robes she had worn two years ago for the Yule Ball despite the fact that they no longer fit properly. Her charismatic confidence had apparently evaporated and she seemed distracted and unnerved. Before Harry could speak to her, Filch called the students over to a set of port keys. She was gone instantly.

The Ministerial Gala was being held at an elegant country mansion. Scores of servants had been working around the clock for weeks decorating the estate and preparing the grounds. Exotic flowers curled around the banister inside while tiny lights dotted the outside gardens.

Percy Weasley surveyed the work with his brother Ron, stopping now and then to change the color of a flower with his wand or transfigure a bush into a lantern.

"If you work hard and keep your nose clean, this could all be yours one day," he declared grandly.

Being used to Percy's self-important manner, Ron ignored the comment though a small part of him wished it could be true. "I'm here on a mission for the Order," he reminded himself, "not to be arranging my own future." Even so, Ron did not intend to turn down any opportunities which might arise from his relationship to the new Minister of Magic. He would merely consider them to be an added benefit.

"Dumbledore's coming tonight and he really wants to talk to you. He's going to set it up so that you can contact him instantly if need be."

Percy nodded. "I'll be glad to listen to Dumbledore's ideas."

"Listen to them?" Ron stopped abruptly.

Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Percy considered his brother. "Of course I want to consult with anyone that can be helpful. But remember, Ron, I am merely a representative of the people. We don't live under a monarchy anymore. I'm obligated to act upon the wishes of the majority in spite of my own personal desires."

"I guess that's true. I hadn't thought of it like that," Ron mused, feeling a surge of pride for his brother. Here he had thought that Percy could do whatever he wanted because he was the Minister of Magic but Percy apparently had too much integrity for that. He truly was a servant of the people.

Before long the mansion filled with merrymakers. House elves scurried to and fro carrying elegant silver trays laden with sumptuous food and drink. Wizards and witches paired up on the dance floor. Ron greatly wished he could break away from Percy and his equally dull girlfriend, Penelope, but he knew he had to keep an eye on his brother's contacts.

This was hardly difficult. Percy had positioned himself at the front of a rather tedious receiving line and Ron pumped countless hands while listening to a seemingly endless stream of congratulations for his brother. Ron was relieved when his parents, flanked by his brother Bill and his date Fleur Delacour, appeared at the front of the line.

Although he had not seen Fleur in over a year, he felt just as nervous as at their last meeting. He tried to mutter a greeting but, before he could, Fleur leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. Ron flushed furiously and his eldest brother laughed, draping an arm casually around Fleur's shoulders. They moved forward stiffly greeting and congratulating the new Minister of Magic.

Arthur Weasley appeared just as awkward around Percy as Bill did. He had obviously not forgotten Percy's words to him last year.

"Now you'll be in a position to really make a difference," he remarked in a falsely hearty tone.

Percy nodded in response but eyed his mother with obvious disapproval.

Poor Mrs. Weasley just did not seed to fit in with the formal atmosphere. Her dress robes were outdated and her jewelry was small and dull. In fact, Mrs. Weasley's entire demeanor suggested that she was not at all comfortable. Ron had often wondered why his mother never accompanied his father to his formal dress parties. Now he knew why. She obviously hated them.

Beaming at Percy and Ron, Mrs. Weasley's eyes filled with tears. "Oh my boys! I'm so proud," she gushed. The glass in her hand tipped precariously as she threw her arms around Percy and Ron in turn. Bill rolled his eyes.

"Mum," Ron complained, self-consciously smoothing his robes. Several people, including the Malfoys, were watching.

"Come on, Molly," Mr. Weasley said, guiding her away. "We can't monopolize the boys all night." He winked at Ron and disappeared into the crowd with his wife.

Ron valiantly attempted to pay close attention as Percy presented a running commentary on each guest that walked in the door.

"Mrs. Longbottom," Percy announced as the woman Ron knew to be Neville's grandmother came in. "One of the wealthiest women in Britain."

Looking over, Ron noted Fred and George standing near the entranceway. Ginny was with them, standing waif-like in the corner. Even from a distance her face appeared as white as Nearly Headless Nick's.

'She's sick," thought Ron. "Why is she even here? She should be in bed. She looks terrible."

"We've seen nearly everyone - Mum, Dad, Bill and Charlie. What about Fred and George? Are they even here?" Percy inquired, surveying the crowd.

Ron, who had been staring at his fingernails for most of Percy's monologue, now started, realizing that he had been asked a question. He opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by a sudden noise at the door.

Actually, it was the exact opposite of a noise. Complete silence had overtaken the crowd in the entranceway and spread throughout the room. Ron, along with everyone else turned to see what the trouble was.

An elegantly dressed Remus Lupin had just arrived with a beautiful but delicate-looking Tonks on his arm. He appeared oblivious to the reaction they received, eyeing Tonks as if he still could not believe she had come with him.

Ron frankly did not understand how they could possibly bear it. If everyone were staring at him like that, he would be mortified. He was mortified - for them.

Although Tonks had entered with a smile the smile froze on her face as she glanced around. The horrible silence was soon replaced by whispers. Some wizards went so far as to turn their backs on the couple. No one greeted or approached them as they slowly made their way into the party.

Ron had been eager to see the two together as their relationship had been the subject of much speculation between Hary and Hermione but now he could scarcely look at them. He could not decide whom he felt worse for - Lupin because he was a werewolf and would always be alienated from the mainstream or Tonks because she was facing the same alienation by her mere association with Lupin. He was annoyed to hear Percy cluck disapprovingly at his side.

"Remus!" someone finally called from across the room. It was Fred.

"It's great to see you," said George striding over to shake his hand.

Lupin had never been so glad to see a Weasley. Although he had expected any icy reception, every slight seemed magnified because he was seeing it through Tonks' eyes.

"Enjoying yourselves?" he asked, heartily shaking both their hands.

"We're making our compulsory appearance," Fred answered. "We won't be staying long."

"But if we were lucky enough to have dates as lovely as yours, we might stay on a bit longer," George laughed. "Tonks, you look beautiful."

"You really do," Lupin agreed sincerely. He glanced at her hopefully. His date had been quiet since their arrival and he feared she was upset by their reception.

Their attention shifted, however, to a scene developing nearby.

"Ginny, how could you?" a high-pitched voice shrieked from the corner. It was Mrs. Weasley and Ginny was apparently in trouble.

"Your brother's just been named Minister of Magic and this is how you choose to dress? What happened to the money we sent you for new dress robes?"

Fred and George exchanged amused expressions.

"What is that, Fred? Her fourth drink?"

"Fifth, I think," Fred answered. "She'll be smashed in an hour."

Tonks appeared surprised. "I never took Molly as a drinker."

"Oh, she's not," George assured her. "It's just at things like this - she gets nervous."

"Yeah, Mum's not exactly high society," Fred added.

Lupin frowned. Although he himself was no drinker, he could certainly sympathize with Molly's feelings. He did not fit in at functions either. His reception today, while particularly frosty, was not unusual.

"You march yourself right over and congratulate your brother," Mrs. Weasley continued with a hiccup. "You're not going to hide in a corner all night and I will be speaking to your father about this."

Ginny glowered at her mother and sulkily headed in the direction of her brothers.

"What's wrong with Ginny?" Tonks asked in a low tone. "Is she ill?"

Lupin agreed. "She doesn't look well."

"Percy can have that effect on people," Fred said. "Come with us, Ginny. We can't let you see Percy on your own. There's safety in numbers."

"Poor Ron," George said dramatically pointing to his younger brother who stood resolutely by Percy's side. "He's a better man than us."

The three siblings got in line to congratulate Percy.

"Remus," said Tonks, touching his arms. "We ought to pay our respects as well."

Lupin hesitated. Should he say something to Tonks? Was she upset? He was still debating the matter when Tonks leaned in. She was so close her lips brushed his ear, leaving him breathless.

"I don't know mind what they say about us," she whispered.

Remus' heart raced. He knew it was not entirely true - he had seen her face darken when they came in. Yet it felt as if he had waited his entire life to hear a woman say those words to him. For a moment he was stuck with an impulse to take her in his arms but he merely looked into her eyes unable to express his feelings.

They queued up to see the Minister of Magic, taking their place behind the Weasleys. Fred and George were still cracking jokes, many of them at the expense of the Minister. Tonks joined in eagerly. Smiling, Lupin found it rather difficult to take his eyes off her. Everyone was enjoying each other's company - so much so that no one seemed to notice that Ginny was not speaking at all or that her face had grown even more wan. Lupin noticed, however, and watched with concern from the corner of his eye.

As they moved ahead in line, Ginny seemed to deteriorate further, becoming drenched in sweat as though feverish. When they had nearly reached the front of the line, Ginny began to tremble violently.

Alarmed, Lupin nudged Tonks and nodded to the girl.

Tonks gasped. "Ginny?"

Slowly turning, Ginny stared blankly at the couple. It appeared as if the girl wanted to respond but she seemed unable to. Her pupils were dilated and vacant-looking.

'Tonks," she whispered, staggering towards her. "I …"

Lupin reached out quickly and caught the girl just before she hit the floor.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Nineteen

"Ginny!" Ron cried when he saw his sister collapse. He rushed over leaving Percy to survey the scene narrowly from afar.

Scooping her up easily, Lupin carried her over to a nearby bench where she came to quickly enough but still looked wretched. Tonks hovered around anxiously, summoning ice and speaking to Ginny in low tones.

"Is she alright?" Ron asked.

"I think so," ventured Tonks. "It looks like she just fainted, poor dear. She's obviously ill."

Still shaking, Ginny appeared about to cry.

"She's cold," Ron told Lupin with unnecessary urgency. He pulled out his wand and summoned her cloak which he draped carefully around her shoulders. She gave him a grateful look.

Lupin knelt to Ginny's eye level. "I'm going to get your mother," he informed her with a reassuring smile. "And let Percy know she's okay."

Straining to see them from across the room, Percy remained in position at the head of the receiving line. He was still eagerly shaking hands but was now obviously distracted..

Lupin scanned the room for Mrs. Weasley. He found her on the dance floor wobbly waltzing with Alastor Moody. Moody's face wore a puzzled expression and his eyes seemed to beg for rescue from anyone. "On second thought, I'm going to get Arthur."

He went off to find Ginny's father, stopping for a quiet word with the Minister. Percy was so concerned about Ginny's condition that he offered, practically insisted, that she see his personal healer, Augustus Pye but when Arthur mentioned it to Ginny she became so agitated that all agreed it was better to just send her back to the hospital wing at Hogwarts.

They were discussing the arrangements for getting her back to school when a House Elf presented himself in front of Ron who was now sitting with the stricken Ginny.

"Please, sir," he said with a bow. "The Minister says you are needed in the garden immediately for the dedication of the Cornelius Oswald Fudge Memorial Fountain."

Ron bit his lip and made no response. Glancing from his sick sister to his brother the Minister, he appeared torn. Lupin took him aside and put a hand on his shoulder.

" I know you're worried about your sister but she's going to be fine and you really need to be with Percy now. We'll take care of her, I promise."

Ron nodded and bid goodbye to Ginny before rejoining his brother. Shortly after, there was an announcement about the dedication and people began to migrate out of doors. Fred and George graciously offered to see Ginny back to Hogwarts via the Floo Network.

To Lupin's surprise, Tonks seemed quite shaken by the incident.

'Do you think she's going to be alright?" she asked him half a dozen times. No matter how many times Lupin insisted that she was merely stricken with a bad bout of flu she still acted worried.

The dedication was a dull affair. Percy gave a long-winded speech about Fudge and Lucius Malfoy, financial backer of the monument, unveiled the fountain. Ironically, Fudge's asssasination had reserved him a place in history he never would have merited in life.

The highlight of the speech came when Dumbledore inadvertently apparated right in front of the fountain. He was dressed in elaborate blue robes with embroidered stars of spun gold. Some wizards gasped in surprised; other clapped. Nearly everyone began to talk.

Percy and Malfoy, however, were clearly not pleased to have their presentation upstaged. Percy looked as if he had just swallowed a lemon.

Dumbledore approached him as if he were a dear old friend. "Percy, may I congratulate you on a new post?"

"It's Minister," Percy muttered under his breath.

"Dumbledore, we are dedicating Fudge's fountain," Malfoy admonished.

"Dear me, please forgive my interruption," he said stepping back and looking more amused than apologetic.

Lupin assumed that they would go and see Dumbledore right after the dedication. He had been so looking forward to meeting Tonks again. She, however, had a different idea.

"Let's dance!" she declared, playfully pulling him back inside.

Lupin agreed readily enough but was a bit surprised by the request. Tonks' clumsiness was notorious and he could not imagine that she would want to display it in such a public forum. Perhaps she didn't care what people thought. Maybe that was why she had decided to attend the Gala with him even after he had warned her about the possible repercussions.

Tonks tripped and stumbled through numerous dances. Laughing musically at her own mistakes which Lupin found charming. Not everyone apparently was shunning them. About the time Dumbledore took to the floor with Mrs. Longbottom, Kinglsey Shacklebolt cut in, citing "Auror's priveledge."

Reluctantly Lupin sat out the next dance. He smiled as she whirled by, feeling slightly jealous of Shacklebolt. "She's beautiful," he thought. "Inside and out." He felt very fortunate because he felt a strong connection to Tonks. Even if they just had this one night together it would be more than he had ever dared to hope for. She was a bright star in his otherwise lonely life.

"I think Dumbledore's free," she said returning from the dance floor, her face pink with exertion.

"Splendid," Lupin remarked, striding forward with Tonks at his side. They were halfway across the room when Lucius Malfoy stepped neatly in front of them. Lupin nudged Tonks forward hoping to avoid a confrontation but Tonks did not move. She stood rigidly in place eyeing Malfoy nervously.

"Well, if it isn't Beauty and the Beast," Malfoy said coldly, eyeing Tonks especially closely.

Lupin touched the small of her back protectively.

"There's nothing we have to say to you, Malfoy," she spat.

"Believe me - I've no desire to converse with you either. But I am most curious. How do your parents feel about the company you keep?"

Tonks did not answer and glanced downward.

Malfoy appeared smug. "You haven't told them. Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Your parents may be - shall we say - liberal, but even they would not approve of their only daughter consorting with werewolves."

The corners of Tonks' mouth began to twitch.

"That's enough, Malfoy. Leave her alone!" Lupin said angrily.

"How touching, Nymphadora. He stands up for you. That should be a comfort when even your worthless parents refuse to speak to you."

"You - you …" Tonks sputtered in a choked voice.

Lupin's heart ached for her. He had so hoped that a scene like this would not happen and now that it had, he realized he would never be able to shield her from the public's opinion. Putting his arm about her waist, he tried to pull her away but she remained immobile, apparently resigned to hear Malfoy out.

"If you have a problem with me," he said tersely, "address it with me. Kindly leave Miss Tonks out of it."

Malfoy snorted and then glanced back at Tonks. "Not that I expected anything better from you. Thanks to your father, your blood's about as polluted as the Thames."

With that remark, Tonks gasped and hid her face in her hands. She ran from Lupin's side and out towards the grounds. Lucius Malfoy shrugged and turned away. Furious, Lupin poked his shoulder roughly and Malfoy turned to face him disinterestedly.

"Classy, Malfoy - bullying a young woman who's done absolutely nothing to you."

"Don't touch me!" Malfor snarled brushing off his robes with such obvious revulsion that Lupin stepped back in spite of himself. "You're very bold tonight," he observed, following Lupin's gaze to Tonks' retreating back. "Are you still thinking of her?" he asked with a hint of incredulity.

"I don't suppose you could understand that," Lupin uttered softly.

Shaking his head, Malfor laughed scornfully. "You poor fool. You think Nymphadora Tonks needs you to defend her? She's a fully qualified Auror. Believe me. She can take care of herself."

Not bothering to respond, Lupin hurriedly pushed his way out to the gardens. He found Tonks sitting with her back to him on a bench. He paused, uncertain what to say to her. She was obviously crying. Her shoulders trembled and he could hear her soft sobs.

"Tonks," he started tentatively. She turned to him and he made to offer her his handkerchief but she threw herself on his shoulder sobbing. He held her tightly, leaning his face against her hair, feeling her pain and knowing from his own experience that nothing he could say would be of comfort.

"I'm sorry, Remus," she whimpered, wiping her eyes.

"Don't apologize. You can't help how you feel."

"I don't care what my parents or anyone else thinks about us," she avered.

"I think it's obvious that you do care," Lupin ventured mildly. He struggled to sound matter-of-fact, as though he were just making a casual observation., but inside he was miserable, fearing he would lose her.

She did not hesitate but met his eyes with a shy smile. "I guess I do care but not as much as I care about you."

Every doubt about their relationship dissolved and Lupin was elated. Yet Tonks still appeared affected.

"Is there something else that's bothering you?"

She glanced around nervously. "It's about Wednesday night."

Lupin knew that she was referring to the recent attack on the northernmost Auror outpost, which had marked a terrific victory for Voldemort and his followers. They walked as far as they could from the main garden. When they were certain they were well out of earshot, Lupin transfigured the stones on the path into dried leaves that would crinkle if anyone approached. They could not be too careful.

Tonks sat down heavily and Lupin joined her. She shuddered and began to recount a scene of such violence that Lupin was chilled to the core. He had hoped that Tonks was not involved in the battle but now learned that she had been right in the thick of it. Although other outposts had been taken, this coup was significant because of the great number of Death Eaters who had staged the attack, marking a large increase in Voldemort's army. In addition, itwas the first time civilian wizards had left their homes in an attempt to defend against Voldemort's minions. Most had been killed along with the Aurors. Others, like Tonks and Shacklebolt, had barely escaped with their lives.

Clearly traumatized, the woman seemed unable to stop speaking. Lupin felt powerless. He wished there was something he could say. Her eyes pooled with tears.

"Tonks, don't," he said softly, pressing her hand.

She shook her head. "Remus, you don't know. You can't imagine - such power". Her voice took on a tone of awe and her eyes glinted wildly. "He has such powers."

"He's just a man," Lupin murmured.

"And Ginny tells me Harry's going home for break. He'll kill him! I know he will!"

Lupin knew this was impossible and was glad to at least tell her that,but she was not comforted and acted as if he were merely being naïve. He wanted to give her some concrete information on Harry's protection that she could put her faith in but such information was meant to be kept secret. He hesitated but tears were coursing down Tonks' lovely face. He just could not bear to see her so distressed.

"Harry is safe there," he declared. Dumbledore has protection in place stemming from Lily's blood."

"You mean Petunia?" she asked through her tears.

He nodded. Tonks seemed to calm and appeared thoughtful. She tried to question Lupin further but Lupin declined to answer. Now that she knew Harry was not in danger she had no need of further information.

When Tonks had settled down, they rose to return to the party. Her hair was mussed and, instead of fixing it, she let it down. It fell softly to her shoulders. Lupin was again struck with the impulse to sweep her into his arms but this time he did not resist it.

"I love you, Nymphadora Tonks," he murmured inaudibly into her hair.

"Harry, I can't find Ginny," Hermione said shaking him awake. He had fallen asleep in the Common Room.

"She's in the hospital wing. She got sick at the Gala," Harry grunted. He was irritated that Hermione had woken him up. She knew he had had a headache all evening.

"Nurse Pomfrey sent her back. She couldn't find anything wrong with her."

Hermione seemed nervous and she explained that she had already covered for Ginny during one House check and if Ginny did not show herself at the next check, Hermione was going to be in serious trouble. "Do you know where she might be?"

Harry suspected that he did know but hardly felt like sneaking around the castle. He knew Ginny would be unconcerned about the consequences of missing a House check but he did not want to see Hermione get into trouble. He agreed to try and find her.

After grabbing his invisibility cloak, Harry carefully made his way down to the dungeons. Sure enough, he found Ginny in the hidden room she had shown him. She was sound asleep in a chair under the statue of Slytherin. A slight smile played on her lips and an empty goblet lay on the floor next to her.

He woke her up. "Ginny, are you alright? What did you take?" He asked picking up the empty goblet.

She looked pale. "I'm fine," she answered sleepily. "It's Ellysian Elixir. Do you want some?"

Harry remembered it as the potion Lupin had given him over the summer. He was tempted to take some but Dumbledore had counseled against it. He declined.

She nodded and then eyed him intently. "I have some headache powders. Do you want one for your head?"

Harry was slightly taken aback. "How did you know I had a headache?"

Ginny tapped her chin absently with her wand. An odd expression fixed on her features as if she half-expected him to answer the question himself. "I just knew," she finally replied emphatically.

She stepped out of the chamber, leaving Harry to follow and to wonder what she meant.


	20. Chapter Twenty

﻿ 

Chapter Twenty

Harry woke up the next morning with a vague uneasy feeling. Although he and Ginny had made it back to Gryffindor Tower before curfew, he had spent a restless night troubled by odd dreams. Images of a teen-aged Tom Riddle at school flickered through his head all night. They were not frightening - Riddle seemed the typical school boy - but Harry felt as if he should not be dreaming about Voldemort in any form Was Voldemort influencing his thinking? It was terrifying to know that such a scenario was all too possible and he feared being unable to discern a dream from a sending. When he told Ron and Hermione about it, they both recommendedspeak to Lupin about it.

They were in a hurry to finish breakfast so that they could head down to Hagrid's hut. Harry was pleased when Hermione asked Ron about Ginny. He had heard what happened at the Gala and was anxious to hear the real story.

"Dad said it was probably the flu or something," Ron said knitting his brows "But when I saw her it seemed like it had to be something worse."

"Nurse Pomfrey said she was okay," Hermione interjected.

"I'm sure she is. It was just .. just scary," Ron answered slowly as if not convinced of it.

Hearing Ron talk like that brought Ginny's first year to mind. She had been lured into the Chamber of Secrets by Tom Riddle and Harry only just managed to save her before Riddle drained away all of her life energy. They had said that she was fine afterwards but the few times Harry had heard her mention the incident it was with a bitterness that led him to believe that she had not been unscathed.

After eating they headed down to Hagrid's as Ron had promised to tell him how the Gala had gone.

"It's good ter see yehs," Hagrid said as he pulled Fang off of Hermione.

"How have you been?" Harry asked.

"Fine, fine," Hagrid answered. He turned to Hermione. "Grawpy's doin' well."

Hermione cocked her head thoughtfully. "Yes, I think he is," she agreed after consideration.

Harry colored Although he had promised Hagrid that he would help teach Grawp English, he had reconsidered upon actually seeing him and had not ventured back into the forest Hermione, however, felt obligated to the Giant since he had saved their lives last year. She apparently visited him regularly, though Harry had no idea how she was managing to get past the centaurs.

Ron soon took the floor describing the Gala in great detail. Although he insisted it was a dull affair, Ron listed all the influential wizarding families he had been introduced to. He also described the grounds, the food and the servants. It was obvious to Harry that Ron was enamored with Percy's lifestyle even though he continued to tell everyone just how obnoxious his brother was.

Hagrid was mainly interested in the people he knew personally, asking about Lupin and Dumbledore as well as the students he knew were attending.

"How about Mad-Eye? He enjoy himself?"

Ron shrugged "How can you tell? He spent most of the evening searching the walls for magical bugging devices."

"Typical Moody," Harry said and laughed.

Hagrid laughed as well. Hermione, however, seemed more serious.

"Was he always like that, Hagrid?"

"What? Mad-Eye? Well, some say he didn't crack until after his wife died but really I think he were always like that."

The three teen-agers gaped at him. "Moody was married?" they cried in chorus.

Hagrid nodded

"No way," Ron muttered.

"I never knew," Hermione breathed.

Harry flatly could not believe it. He ttried to imagine Moody picking out a Valentine's card with his magical eye or strolling down the street hand in hand with a woman who was not part of a Ministry sting operation.

"There's not many who know or at least remember. It was brief and a long time ago."

"What happened to her?" Hermione asked quietly.

"She was kilt by Death Eaters ' bout two weeks after they married."

Harry gulped, feeling a chill run up his spine.

"Was she in the Order?" Ron asked.

"Na," Hagrid said shaking his head. "She was a Muggle, didn't even know 'bout wizards 'til Moody investigated something' in her neighborhood. A young, pretty thing she were too, 'bout half his age. No one ever thought she'd marry him but she did. Just goes to show ya. Never saw Moody quite so happy."

"Why did the Death Eaters kill her?" Harry asked.

"Who can say? Some say it were because she was a Muggle but I think it was jus' 'cause it was Moody's wife. They never could bring down Mad-Eye Moody so they went for the next best thing - his wife."

"That's so sad," Hermione murmured.

"Aye - he was devastated. An' it's not easy to see a man like Moody fall apart like that. He just cracked - swore one of the Death Eaters had gotten away - said he were goin' ter hint 'im down - still says it now. Avenge his wife."

"Maybe one did get away," Ron suggested in a horror-stricken voice.

"Na - there were a witness. Someone else was there the whole time. When the Aurors arrived they found four dead Death Eaters and Lily Potter on the floor with the life half out of 'er."

"My mum?" Harry asked eagerly. He was always hungary for any information about his parents."What happened, Hagrid?"

"Aye, your mum," Hagrid answered patting him awkwardly on the shoulder. "Lily had been at the Moodys' for tea when the attack happened She tried to protect the missus - took down four Death Eaters tryin' - but in the end they killed her and nearly got your mum as well." Hagrid reached in his pocket and withdrew an enormous handkerchief. He blew his nose loudly.

Sinking into silence, Harry listened to the others talking around him. He could not get the image of four Death Eaters cornering a defenseless woman out of his mind, nor the thought of his mother vainly trying to save her. It seemed as if there was no one left untouched by Lord Voldemort and each connection brought him ever closer to his final destiny with the Lord of Darkness.

"Harry? Harry, are you coming?"

Snapping out of his reverie, Harry rose to join his friends at the door.

'You alright, Harry?" Hagrid asked, eyeing him closely.

Harry nodded, smiling weakly.

"Be sure an' stop down again," Hagrid told them. "Are you seein' that brother of yours anytime soon?"

"Actually, I'm spending Christmas at the Ministerial Flat," he said proudly.

This was the first Harry had heard of it. Not that it mattered. He would be stuck at Privet Drive for Christmas and Hermione he knew was planning on going home for the holidays Even so, a strange look passed over her face when Ron mentioned his plans. She obviously had not heard of it either.

She stopped Ron on the way back to the castle. "I didn't know you were going to the Ministerial Flat."

"So what? You know I have to keep an eye on Percy.

"You'll need to be awfully careful," she said cautiously.

"What do you mean?" Ron asked as the color began to rise in his face.

Hermione twisted her hands nervously. "Well, it's just - there's bound to be a lot of people around and you'll need to be really careful about what you say."

'You think I don't know that?" Ron countered hotly.

Harry could not even begin to jump in. Hh had no idea why Hermione was so intent on starting an argument over Percy Weasley.

"I know you do," she remarked hastily. 'it's just - well, you talked about Lucius Malfoy and all."

"Percy doesn't like him. He's the Minister. He has to deal with him for work."

"It's nothing aganst your brother -"

'It sounds like it is," Ron interrupted angrily.

"Ron, it's really not. I just mean that you could say something which seems unimportant and someone could get the wrong idea." Hermione was practically stumbling over her words as Ron got even more irritated.

"So now you think I'm indiscreet. McGonagall obviously doesn't think so" He glared at her. "Anyway, you're no one to talk?"

"What do you mean?" Hermione demanded sharply.

"Well, why'd you go and tell Krum about Sirius?" he asked haughtily

Harry had asked Ron the same question after Krum had approached him over the summer. Although Sirius Black's death had been witnessed, it was not officially acknowledged Neither the Ministry or Voldemort's side had seen an advantage in disclosing it, preferring to use Black as a scapegoat or intimidation tool. The Order still continued to use Grimmauld Place as Headquarters. Harry had been extremely upset that Hermione had spoken to Krum about Sirius but, since he was trying to mend his friendship st the time, he had chosen not to pursue it. Now that Ron had brought it up, he felt his own anger rising.

Hermione appeared confounded. "I - I never mentioned him."

"Then how did he know?" Ron continued doggedly .

"Yeah, how did he know?" echoed Harry.

"I didn't tell him," Hermione practically screamed. She looked at Harry pleadingly. "Harry, I swear I didn't."

Harry wavered She was getting upset and seemed to be telling the truth. Hermione looked from one boy to the other, her eyes bright with tears.

"Okay, Hermione. It doesn't matter."

But Ron was unwilling to let it go. "She thinks she's so much better than everybody else and she never makes mistakes." He kicked a stone across the ground.

"Great," thought Harry. "Another afternoon of listening to them bicker." Fortunately, his need to see Lupin was a ready made excuse to leave them to it.

When the boy arrived at Lupin's office, he was dismayed to find Snape already there He coughed and the pair started, giving Harry the distinct impression that they had been talking about him. A sudden chill gripped him. Was Snape telling Lupin about his use of the Cruciatus Curse?

'I can come back later," he muttered backing away. "I just need to talk to Professor Lupin."

Harry's eyes darted around the room vainly searching for the empty goblet which would signify that Snape was just delivering the Wolfsbane Potion.

Lupin turned and regarded him with a slightly troubled expression. "No, Harry. Please stay. I need to speak with you."

Snape swept wordlessly out of the room as Harry sat down stiffly.

"How are you?" Lupin asked absently.

Harry did not answer. He was waiting for the hammer to fall.

Failing to notice the lack of response, Lupin continued, "Yes, Harry, I'm glad you're here. There is something we should probably discuss. I've heard…" he paused. "I think … Well, let's start with you. What did you need to see me about?"

Harry told him about the dreams he had about a school-aged Lord Voldemort.

Lupin listened quietly until he had stopped speaking. "Harry, I'm glad that you came to me about this," he said with such genuine sincerity that Harry immediately felt at ease.

Lupin proceeded to ask him a series of questions similar to the ones Dumbledore had asked him last year when Arthur Weasley had been attacked by the snake. To his great relief, Harry found himself now giving much different answers.

"It sounds like a dream," Lupin said gently, "that happens to have Voldemort in it."

He was probably right yet Harry had been so unnerved by it earlier.

"I know it must be very frightening - the possibility that he can get into your head That's why it's so important that you work at Occlumency and be extra cautious -" he broke off frowning.

"He's going to bring up Bellatrix Lestrange," Harry thought wildly But, in truth, some part of him welcomed a discussion about the curse. Although he could not bring himself to tell Lupin about it, he now realized he could trust him.

"Anyway, Harry, Sn… er someone told me that you did quite a bit of damage to Draco Malfoy on the first day of classes."

Lupin seemed to be expecting a response but Harry could not fathom why this was coming up two months after the incident.

"Yes, sir, I hexed him."

"A pretty powerful hex by all accounts," Lupin notely gravely. "Tell me what happened."

Harry described the incident and how it had ignited over Draco's mention of Sirius. Lupin was visibly relieved. His whole face realaxed.

"So you just lost your temper?"

Harry had thought that was obvious. "Of course. I don't walk around the halls just hexing people."

Lupin smiled "I know. Nonetheless, you need to exhibit a bit more control. I know how difficult it is to remain cool when a loved one is being insulted but words are merely words. Using your wand put things on a whole different level."

Nodding, Harry was still forced to wonder why a hex he had cast in September was being discussed now.

"And I know you want to learn to defend yourself but that's what Defense Against the Dark Arts is for. Dumbledore is an exceptional wizard. He will teach you what you need to know. I don't want you to try to figure things out by yourself."

Harry's mind immediately jumped to Ginny and her library in the dungeons.

"Now you know that you can come to me about anything," Lupin said offering him a slab of cake.

Apparently Lupin was oblivious to Harry's use of the Cruciatus Curse and Harry, though conflicted, decided not to tell him about it. He asked instead about Lupin's night. The man's eyes sparkled as he told Harry about the Gala.

"Have you seen Ginny Weasley?" he asked dutifully. "Is she alright?"

Harry chewed on his lip and muttered noncommittally. He had a very unsettling sense that Ginny was not alright.

It must have shown on his face because Lupin asked if there were something else bothering him. Harry could think of about a dozen of Ginny's behaviors that were bothering him but he did not want to get her into trouble or betray any confidences. He decided to inquire about her habitual potion-taking.

"Why can't I take Ellysian Elixir? What did Dumbledore say about it?

Lupin seemed surprised by the question. "The Headmaster just thought it would be best if you concentrated more on Occlumency."

"Oh, is that why?" Harry said with relief. "It's not harmful then."

"I wouldn't say that," Lupin mused. "It's not usually harmful, per se. But it can be misused. Too much of it can certainly affect your mind. That's why it's generally given by a Healer or Potions Master."

Certainly it did not seem like something Ginny should be whipping up in the basement. Harry resolved to speak to her about it.

"I know you must have some terrible nightmares but hiding from them is not the answer"

"Oh, I know," Harry remarked quickly. "I was just curious."

Lupin looked as if he did not entirely believe him but still let the matter rest and Harry soon found himself reluctantly returning to Gryffindor Tower.

Reluctantly because he knew that Ron and Hermion were likely still going at it. But when he arrived, the Common Room was mearly empty. A few scattered people were reading or playing chess, including Ginny Weasley. Harry contemplated her from a distance She did not appear ill. Her cheeks were rosey and she seemed content, perusing a red leather book.

Dean Thomas stopped behind him. "Are you going to tell Ginny you fancy her?"

"What?" Harry barely registered the words.

"Yeah," Dean said nodding. "It's best to leave that one alone."

"I don't fancy Ginny," Harry protested.

"You just keep telling yourself that," Dean murmured wryly. "Just keep telling yourself that."


	21. Chapter Twentyone

Chapter Twenty -One

"What's she taking Krum for?" Ron muttered watching Hermione disappear into the forest with Viktor Krum.

Harry shrugged "If he doesn't go with Hermione, he's just going to spend the entire practice bothering us."

It was true. Viktor Krum's light schedule combined with his poor social skills seemed to leave him at loose ends. As such, he spent most of his time wandering around the Quiddich field giving unsolicited advice to the players. He had become quite a nuisance and the students went to great lengths to avoid him. Krum's favorite target was Harry. Evidently, he thought they were fast friends. In fact, Harry strongly suspected that Krum was responsible for the book _Introducing Dark Magic_ which had appeared in his book bag one evening after Quiddich practice. He had noticed Krum loitering near his things while he was looking for the Snitch and the book gave every appearance of being a Durmstrang textbook introducing students to the history and concepts behind the Dark Arts. Mystified, Harry had simply buried the book at the bottom of his trunk.

Therefore, Harry was relieved when they came down to practice and Krum told them he was going into the forest to lay eyes on Grawp. Ron reluctantly agreed that Krum's absence was preferable - likely because he was not eager to hear a critique of his goal-keeping abilities or a litany of the other players' idiosyncrasies.

Practice started late as Ginny had fallen asleep after her last class. By the time they had started in earnest, the sun was near to setting. Once it had started, however, practice could not have gone smoother. Soaring on his broomstick, Harry was able to forget all his problems. He felt free and content. Perhaps that was why he did not notice the initial rumblings from the forest. What he did notice was tiny Dennis Creevey stopping in mid-air and cocking his head as if he heard a noise. Within minutes the entire team had stopped playing. Hovering over the field, they watched horrified as the trees began to shake in the forest.

"Giants!" cried Seamus Finegan. "They're attacking the castle!"

"We'll get Dumbledore!" the Creevey brothers shouted as they flew toward the castle.

Everyone else looked expectantly at Harry, the team captain. He did not know what to do.

"Ok, everyone - back in the castle. Let's go!"

"But Hermione!" Ron called urgently. "She's in the forest!"

Harry had forgotten. Already he could hear the screams of the centaurs from the woods. Hermione and Krum might not have time to wait for Dumbledore.

"Sloper," he called. You and Seamus get Hagrid - quick!"

They nodded and sped off.

"I think we'd better go in," he said warily to Ron who was forced to agree.

'I'm coming too," Ginny declared.

The three dismounted and sped toward the forest where three giants were clearly visible, destroying everything in their path.

"This way," Harry cried. He waved his wand continually in front of him, clearing away rocks and roots from their path.

Soon they found Hermione and Krum in a small clearing, surrounded by Giants who were rapidly closing in. Hermione's expression was scared but she seemed in control. She was using her wand to undo the numerous knots, which lashed Grawp below the tree line. Grawp hollered in an unknown language. Standing in front of Hermione, his wand at the ready, stood Viktor Krum with a resolute expression.

Harry and Ron stopped short but Ginny wordlessly slipped in between two giants, narrowly missing a club in the face. She immediately set to trying to free the giant.

Harry and Ron started throwing out every jinx and hex they knew but the spells merely bounced off the giants or had no effect. The three giants were unconcerned with Harry and Ron and grunted at each other almost conversationally. Finally one shouldered his club and walked off.

"Where's he off to?" Ron asked. "And why isn't magic working against them?"

"It should work," Ginny cried. "They're just so large. Maybe try for their eyes."

Harry, Ron and Ginny tried in vain to hit the moving targets. Finally Krum managed to hit one square in the eye with a conjunctivitis curse. Unfortunately, it only served to enrage him. He hollered in pain and pounded his club blindly. Hermione and Ginny were now in even greater danger.

"Hermy!" Grawp moaned. With a sweep of his arms he managed to free himself from his bonds. Picking up Hermione, he threw her towards Ron and Harry. She screamed.

"Whoa!" Ron cried. He pointed his wand in the air and muttered an incantation. Hermione gently glided down between Ron and Harry.

Grawp also tossed Ginny and Krum out of danger. The second giant yelled in pain. He had been hit with a large arrow. Hagrid had arrived with his crossbow.

"Yeh's alright?" he called as he loaded another arrow.

"We're ok," Harry answered. "The Creeveys went to get Dumbledore."

"Aye, he's right behin' me."

Grawp was now pounding one of the giants with his fists.

"There was another," Hermione yelled. "I don't know where he got to."

Grawp spun around mid-punch. "Gog. Gog. Gog. Gog," he grunted.

"He's trying to speak," Krum muttered. "Vat is he saying?"

"I don't know," Hagrid said as he sent another arrow sailing. "Grawpy, where's the other giant?"

"Gog! Gog! Gog!" He grunted again.

"It's Aragog!" Hermione shouted. "The other giant is with Aragog!"

"Good work, Grawpy," Hagrid said proudly.

Grawp clapped his hands and landed a punch, which rendered one of the giants unconscious. He fell to the ground with an earth-shaking thud.

Dumbledore came sprinting into the forest flanked by McGonagall and Snape.

"Professor Dumbledore, one of 'em went to find the spiders," Hagrid called.

Dumbledore nodded as if he had expected as much. "Hagrid, can you and your brother handle this?" he asked.

"Aye," Hagrid answered pelting the other giant with yet more arrows.

"Minerva, Viktor - please escort these students back to the castle," Dumbledore commanded. "Severus, you will come with me." He did not wait to see that his instructions were followed but plunged back into the forest with Severus Snape.

McGonagall ushered them back down the path leaving Hagrid and Grawp with the other two giants, who were now incapacitated.

"That was scary!" Ron uttered. "Why would giants suddenly try and attack the school?"

"They were not acting on their own, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall declared briskly "And no one would think that they could possibly launch an attack against Hogwarts at any time."

Krum nodded "They were sent by You-Know-Who," he murmured softly.

McGonagall nodded curtly. Ron looked frightened.

Hermione gasped. "But, Professor," she said, "if they weren't attacking the school, what were they doing in the forest?"

It did not escape Harry's notice that Hermione's question went unanswered

Krum and McGonagall's suspicions were correct. When they arrived at the castle, they were informed that Remus Lupin had captured a Death Eater lurking around the forest. All students were confined to their Houses for the rest of the evening so Harry was unable to determine at what point Dumbledore and Snape returned.

There was no way to conceal the attack from the school. Rumors flew fast and furiously. Some were true and some were not. Harry heard that the Death Eater Lupin had captured was McNair. He also heard that a large number of creatures had been killed and that the ugliest giant had dismembered Cho Chang. He did not know what to believe. Perhaps that was why Dumbledore chose to address the school at breakfast the next day.

The Headmaster acknowledged the attack and confirmed the rumor that several creatures had been killed. Hagrid, he informed them, would be forming a group of students and faculty to help in restoring the forest and in bringing aid to the decimated centaur herd. Dumbledore encouraged them all to join and reassured them that Hogwarts was secure and well protected, Harry planned to ask Dumbledore for more information privately.

Meanwhile, Harry's hopes that attending Trelawney's class would help him understand the Prophecy were rapidly diminishing. NEWT level classes in Divination were no different than OWL level classes except that they were comprised of a core group of Trelawney fanatics who hung on her every word. Trelawney buzzed around the room predicting death for Harry and romance and roses for Lavender Brown. What was more, they continued to use tea leaves, crystal balls and rune stones in class. Harry had never seen anything in a crystal ball and still only had a vague notion of how to use the rune stones properly.

Outside the wizarding world was falling apart. There were increasing attacks from Voldemort but in Trelawney's class nothing changed. Even the giant attack three days ago appeared not to phase her.

"Now find a partner and we shall practice casting the rune stones," Trelawney ordered. "They should be quite accurate today with the waxing of the moon."

Harry glanced around the class and groaned inwardly at the thought of working with any of these people. His eyes fell on Neville Longbottom who looked as bored and unimpressed with Divination as Harry was. Of course, Harry did not understand why Neville was even taking the class. He apparently had no future plans other than a vague desire to please his Gran. Having met Neville's no-nonsense grandmother, he could not imagine her going in for Trelawney's useless lessons.

'Let's partner up, Harry," Neville suggested, casting a doubtful glance at the rest of the class.

Harry snatched up his bag of rune stones and joined Neville. Neville muttered something that sounded like "waste of time" and casually tossed his rune stones on the table. A few of them slid off and Neville got down on the floor to collect them.

Looking down at the scattered stones and Neville Longbottom, Harry could hear Dumbledore's words to him last summer. Neville could have been the chosen one. He could have been the one the Prophecy referred to. Neville would have shouldered the weight of responsibility, not Harry.

Why? Why did it have to be him? Here, Neville was placidly attending school without the slightest knowledge of his narrow escape from fate. It was so unfair. For a moment, Harry could barely stand it.

"Did you note their positions?" Neville asked, retaking his seat.

Harry eyed the rune stones in Neville's palm and frowned. "Do you believe in destiny?" He asked, surprised by his own aggressive-sounding tone.

Neville's round face froze. "I don't want to," he whispered

Taken aback by Neville's response, Harry had to question whether Neville were truly ignorant of the Prophecy. He idly cast a rune stone on the table and both boys watched it fall.

Harry sighed "Well, you can't escape it, can you?"

"No," Neville answered resignedly.

Neither spoke as they stared at the rune stone on the table.

"Harry Potter," Trelawney called over the classroom din. 'You are to report to Professor McGonagall's office immediately."

Neville's eyes widened and Harry's stomach churned. What could he have done to merit being pulled out of class? He was fairly certain McGonagall had a class of her own.

As he climbed down the ladder, he tried to think what he could be in trouble for. The Cruciatus Curse loomed large in his mind as did Ginny's room of dubious possessions but, as soon as he reached his Head of House's office, he realized he was not there to be reprimanded.

"Come in, Potter," she called when he knocked hesitantly at the door but her voice was so constricted it almost did not sound like Minerva McGonagall.

"Something's happened," Harry thought with a growing sense of dread. McGonagall had her back to the boy and did not turn around. Harry walked over and stood in front of a chair. On the mantle over the fireplace a large black raven was perched. The boy's heart raced wildly. For a moment he feared that something had happened to Ron and Hermione but then he reasoned that it could not be true. He had just eaten lunch with them.

"Professor?" His mouth was so dry he could barely speak.

Slowly, McGonagall turned to face him with a grim expression. A note was crumpled in her hands.

"There is no easy way to tell you this, Potter. Your uncle was killed in an explosion at the drill factory."

Harry stared at her as if he were unable to comprehend what she had just said. His knees bent of their own accord and he sank onto the edge of the chair. His shock at hearing the news was so great that at first all he could think of was that somewhere else Dudley Dursley was hearing the same news from his own Head of House. He could scarcely believe it. Minutes ago he had been discussing fate with Neville Longbottom. Now fate had struck, rendering, in an instant, his aunt a widow and his cousin fatherless.

"At least that is what the Muggle papers will read," she continued. "But the truth is the factory was destroyed by some very powerful Dark Magic. I'm very sorry."

His initial sense of shock evaporated, replaced by a suffocating feeling of guilt. His uncle had been killed because of him. He felt ill, physically ill. McGonagall was still talking but he heard nothing. His head was buzzing and he could hear his own heartbeat.

"The Headmaster has spoken to your aunt. Under the circumstances, you will not be returning home over Christmas. You will remain here."

When McGonagall finally dismissed him, Harry did not know what to do. Although his uncle had always treated him terribly, he was horror-stricken to think that Vernon's life had been cut short because he and his wife had taken him in as a baby. He was completely overwhelmed.

"Lupin," he thought. "I have to see Professor Lupin. I can talk to him."

But when Harry reached his mentor's office, his urgent knocking went unanswered. With a fresh pang, Harry recalled Trelawney's reference to the full moon. Remus Lupin was unavailable.

Before he even realized what he was doing, Harry found himself on his way down to Ginny's hideout in the dungeons. Tapping his wand on the crack, he gained access to the chamber. Finding a cauldron full of Elyssian Elixir, he filled a silver goblet with it. Somewhere, some part of him recognized that it was not advisable to drink it: remembered that he had intended to speak to Ginny about her own liberal use of it. But he could not think of that now. Leaning back he drank the potion - desperate to feel anything but this horror-tinged guilt.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter Twenty-two

Harry's sense of shock at his uncle's death did not subside over the next couple of days. Unable to stop thinking about Privet Drive, it seemed impossible to believe that the next time he went home Uncle Vernon would not be there to order him around - if there were a next time. His Aunt Petunia would certainly not want him returning now. Would he ever see her again? He wondered how she was. Petunia Dursley's entire life revolved around Vernon and Dudley. How could she possibly cope without one of them?

He felt like he should do something, but what? Send a card? By way of the hated owls? Surely that was not the right thing to do. What would he say anyhow? Although he had lived there for 16 years, he realized now that he had no relationship with any of them. Unable to discern the correct course of action, Harry ended up doing nothing and felt very Petuniaish in doing so.

The day after the incident Dumbledore stopped him after Defense Against the Dark Arts to express his condolences and ask how he was doing.

Harry shrugged and asked the question he had been puzzling out since McGonagall had told him about the incident. "How could this happen?"

The old wizard shook his head soberly. "I know, Harry. These are terrible times and decent people like ourselves can not even imagine such ruthless measures -"

Harry stopped him. "No, sir. I meant how could this happen? You left me at the Dursleys for my own protection but you didn't put anything in place for theirs?" He tried not to sound accusatory but Dumbledore seemed to know what he was thinking.

"Ah," he muttered, nodding to himself.

Impatiently, Harry waited for an answer.

"Your relatives are protected," he said steadily, his clear blue eyes meeting Harry's. "For your own protection and theirs I can not provide you many details. You see, aside from myself and your aunt there are but 2 people living who know how it works. And it must remain so. Therefore, I must ask you not to speak to anyone about this, not even Ron and Hermione. The protection does not work outside the house as you found out last summer." He sighed heavily "I thought your aunt understood all of this but she seems to have miscalculated the risks."

Satisfied that there were at least some provisions in place for his aunt and cousin, Harry let the matter drop. He doubted he would learn much more from Dumbledore anyhow

"As you are undoubtedly aware," Dumbledore continued, "Voldemort is becoming much more active. Therefore, I must ask if you have had any further incursions into your mind? Anytime you felt your consciousness was not your own?"

"No, sir," Harry answered truthfully.

"None?" Dumbledore asked as if surprised. Are you certain?"

Harry wondered why his headmaster was so surprised at this news. After all, he had been taking Occlumency for nearly a year to prevent such incursions.

'None at all," Dumbledore mused quietly.

"Isn't that why I'm taking Occlumency, Professor?"

"Er, yes," Dumbledore muttered distractedly. He then smiled rather indulgently "I just did not think that you would prove so adept at it."

"I had a couple of dreams with Tom Riddle in them," Harry offered uncertainly, confused by Dumbledore's manner. He described a couple of dreams in which a school-aged Riddle wandered about Hogwarts.

I think Professor Lupin is correct in labeling them dreams. However," he paused, raising his eyebrows behind his spectacles, "it is curious."

"Curious how, sir?"

Dumbledore tipped his silvery head to the side. "It's likely coincidental but we have learned that Lord Voldemort is attempting to regain his old physical form."

'Why?"

"There are certain limitations to his current condition, it is true. But I believe his main motivation is his own personal vanity. Even the most powerful wizard can have some affectations it would seem," Dumbledore replied as he absently smoothed his richly embroidered robes.

Harry knew enough of magic to understand that such a transformation would require some powerful Dark Magic, probably involving a host of some sort. He began to feel anxious.

"It's one plan that we are not particularly concerned with," Dubledore reassured him. "All of our research indicates that it requires a willing sacrifice and we don't see a lot of wizards lining up to volunteer."

They were interrupted when Minerva McGonagall swept in. "Mrs. Longbottom is waiting in your office," she informed Dumbledore, giving him a significant look

He nodded "Very well, Harry. Off you go."

McGonagall gave him a tight-lipped smile and Harry turned to leave with the uncomfortable feeling that both teachers were watching him and would most likely be discussing him the minute he left the room. Pulling the door carefully closed behind him, Harry grabbed for his trusty extendable ears and leaned forward.

"Has there been any more information about the attack on the drill factory? Albus, you don't think it had anything to do with the spy Severus warned us about?"

A spy! Voldemort had a spy. Harry's heart raced. Were they in the Order?

"No, Minerva. That attack required no inside knowledge. Voldemort's just testing the waters. He fears to touch the house."

Hearing footsteps, Harry hastily pulled away from the door. He decided to skip dinner that night and strode purposely towards the dungeons. Over the next couple of days, Harry found himself returning more and more frequently to Ginny's hideout in the dungeons. Although Ron and Hermione had been especially kind to him since his uncle died, they really did not understand what he was going through. He was not grieving for Uncle Vernon. He hated his uncle and had every reason for doing so but the realization that Vernon had been killed over his association with Harry weighed upon him like a millstone. It was eating away at him daily. He longed to speak to Lupin and sort his feeling out but that was not possible at present so Harry had to find other ways to deal with his emotions.

Feeling isolated and in pain, Harry began to rely on the Elysian Elixir to dull his biting sense of guilt. It worked like a charm. At first, he tried not to focus on the memory of using the Cruciatus Curse but he found he was unable to do so. The moment the potion took effect the images would wash over him, becoming more vivid each time so that, in his wakefulness, Harry had to remind himself that his use of the curse had not been successful. Soon he began to welcome the dream and the powerful way it made him feel.

Classes became a blur, a distraction between doses of potions. The elixir made him drowsy and he had to fight to stay awake but it was still easier than dealing with the pain

He was seeing a great deal of Ginny Weasley who was now spending most of her afternoons and evening in the dungeons. He liked her company because she did not try to press him into speaking about the Durselys but was instead a comforting presence. Sometimes she would sit with a book while he slept. Other times she would take the elixir and settle in the chair opposite him.

"This might help with your scar pain," she had noted once. "At least to take your mind off it."

"My scar doesn't hurt," Harry replied, his voice thick from the potion.

"Really? It's much darker now. I noticed it yesterday."

Did his scar look different? He wondered. Perhaps it was a side effect. He was beginning to have some odd effects, which he attributed to excessive use of Elysian Elixir. Sometimes his wand hand would tingle or feel warm. Other times he would lose his train of thought only to have random images of Bellatrix Lestrange pop into his head. He was overusing the potion and he knew he would have to slow down but he could not bring himself to do so - at least not now.

Although it seemed much longer, it was really only a couple of days when Ginny came to say that Professor Lupin was back in class.

"Right. I'm going to see him," Harry replied, immediately climbing out of the chair that he had spent the better part of three days in. He tripped clumsily forward.

"Maybe you should wait," Ginny offered, surveying him with a slight frown

Harry hesitated. He was under the influence of his most recent dose of potion but, after all, it was Lupin he was going to see not McGonagall. He decided to go anyway.

Lupin's door was open and when Harry gazed upon his teacher he could see that Lupin looked haggard and worn. His teacher stared vacantly into the fireplace. When Harry announced his presence, Lupin did not flash his customary warm smile. His eyes, which had recently taken on a certain sparkle, were now dull and gray as a cloudy day and just as sad.

"I heard what happened," he said gravely. "I thought you might be around to see me."

Clearly, Lupin was upset about the attack, more so than Harry would have thought. Seeing him so downcast snapped Harry out of his fuzzy consciousness and brought his own emotions to the surface.

Accepting his offer of tea, Harry sat down while Lupin mutely fiddled with cups and saucers. Preparations were taking longer than they should have and Harry suspected Lupin of delaying the moment when they would need to discuss the incident. Finally, Lupin sat down and passed Harry a cup of tea.

But as Harry reached for the cup, his hand tingled as it did in his dreams and he sloshed tea on the table. Lupin eyed him suspiciously but said nothing and waved his wand to clear the table. Putting his hand in his pocket, Harry fingered his wand and felt a warm feeling go up his arm.

"They killed him because of me," Harry finally muttered. He had not phrased it as a question but desperately hoped that Lupin would contradict him.

"It does look like that, I'm afraid," came the sober reply.

Harry's heart plummeted and the stifling sense of responsibility descended again, making him feel as if he could not breathe. He wanted to run back to the dungeons and take the elixir that would erase, if only temporarily, these terrible feelings

"But that's not to say it's your fault," Lupin added hastily, perhaps watching Harry's reaction. "Lord Voldemort was solely responsible and your aunt and uncle were aware of the potential for danger when they took you in."

"I don't think Uncle Vernon knew," Harry muttered sourly. "Aunt Petunia never told him anything."

Lupin's face hardened and Harry thought he was going to speak, but he said nothing

"All those Muggles who worked there," Harry lamented as his eyes widened in horror at the massive loss of life.

Lupin shook his head. "It's a bad business, Harry. This callous disregard for all human life is trademark Voldemort and I fear we shall see more of it." He sighed and took a long drink of tea. "And because of your history and who you are, it is likely that you'll find yourself at the center of such things. But that does not make you in any way responsible for what Voldemort and his followers do."

Harry, however, was not assuaged. In his mind he visualized a long string of people beginning with his father and ending with Uncle Vernon. All had been killed because of their connection with him. And in the middle of it all was …

"Harry?" Lupin called gently.

"Sirius," Harry muttered huskily, a lump in his throat.

Lupin took on a stricken expression. "That was the cruel deed of Bellatrix Lestrange," he answered instantly. It sounded rehearsed.

At the mention of Bellatrix Lestrange, Harry's mind snapped back to his dreams. His wrist tingled and again he fingered his wand. A satisfying warmth crept up his arm but it could not cover up his very real feelings of anguish.

Lupin was trying to speak soothingly but his voice was tight with emotion. For the first time, Harry realized the depth of Lupin's loss. One by one Lupin had lost all of his closest loved ones. Now he seemed resigned to witness even more losses. Who did he have to go to for comfort? Harry had to wonder.

They spoke about Sirius for some time, first about his death and then quite naturally about his life. Lupin talked about their times at school and Harry spoke of the importance of Sirius in his life. It was the first real conversation he had had about Sirius since his death and, through it, Harry was able to gain some sense of closure as well as a closer bond with his father's old friend, Remus Lupin.

When Lupin steered the conversation back to the Dursleys, however, Harry felt too drained to pursue it any further. He tried to shrug it off by making a disparaging remark about his aunt.

"Harry, I don't want to hear you speak about your aunt that way again," Lupin uttered quietly but forcefully.

Harry felt stung. He knew from Lupin's tone that he was serious but he could not understand why his teacher was suddenly taking issue over his comments about the Dursleys. He had thought Lupin understood his situation there.

"You don't know what she's like," he complained.

Lupin hesitated and then said pointedly. " I do know your aunt, or used to. She was a lovely person and if that's changed -"

"When did you know my aunt?" Harry inquired in confusion. The Petunia Dursley that he knew would have nothing to do with the wizarding world. She hated everything to do with it, including Lupin, who had had the door shut in his face the last time he met Petunia.

"A long time ago," Lupin sighed. "She used to visit when we were in school. Hogsmeade weekends, visitation days, any other time that Sirius could contrive to sneak her in."

"What? She came to see my mother?"

"Your mother and she were quire close. Petunia was a bit jealous of her, I think. But your grandparents did seem to favor Lily. Unfortunate but not unusual in a family with both magical and non-magical children. And Petunia was fascinated by the wizarding world - a bit of a shame in that she couldn't see her own talents because of it. And she was a lovely girl, high-spirited, friendly." He smiled nostalgically. "Seems like a lifetime ago."

None of this made any sense to Harry and if he had not heard it directly from Lupin, he would not have believed it were true.

"But Aunt Petunia hated my mother. What happened?"

But Lupin was up with his back turned to Harry shuffling through a box of papers. He pulled out a magical snapshot and handed it to Harry who completely forgot his question. The photo had been taken in Hogsmeade. His mother and aunt were waving from a picnic blanket while his father and Sirius tossed a snitch in the background. All were teenagers and had to be near the end of their school days. Neither Lupin nor Peter Pettigrew were in the picture. Possibly one of them had taken it. He stared, hardly able to believe what he was seeing. It was as if the Petunia Dursley he thought he knew did not exist, as if she were a stranger to him.

He had dozens of questions for Lupin but as he reached for his teacup, his wand hand began to tingle again, this time more intensely. Shaking he dropped the cup and it shattered

"I'm so sorry, sir," Harry apologized quickly. Swaying, he reached for his wand.

Hearing the smash, Lupin turned and watched the boy with thinly veiled disgust. Harry leaned forward to clean up the mess and, in doing so, lost his balance. He fell awkwardly to the floor.

"Just sit down! I'll clean it up!" Lupin ordered him sharply.

"Reparo. Scourgify." The cup was fixed and the spill cleaned while Harry sat dazedly in his chair, ashamed to meet his teacher's eyes.

"Alright, Harry. I want to know what you're taking and where you're getting it from."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter Twenty-three

Harry shrank inwardly at Lupin's sharp tone. He was in serious trouble now and he knew it. He attempted to deny everything.

"Come on, Harry. You show up here with glazed eyes, falling out of your chair. You can't even hold a teacup. I wasn't born yesterday."

Harry shrugged which only seemed to anger Lupin further. He threw up his arms in frustration.

"How are you even getting through your classes?"

"I'm going to classes," Harry grumbled, though he had to confess that most of his instructors had been giving him wide latitude since his uncle died.

Lupin shook his head sadly. "So what you're telling me is that you are allowing our sympathetic instructors to believe that you are suffering from great personal loss so that you have the opportunity to drink yourself into a stupor?"

Harry had not thought of it like that but, now that Lupin had said it, he felt awful. He certainly had not intended to manipulate the tragedy to his own benefit.

"What are you taking?" Lupin demanded.

"Elysian Elixir," Harry grudgingly admitted.

Lupin was outraged. "Elysian Elixir? The very potion I specifically told you not to take! I can't believe it!"

"I've only been taking it since my uncle died," Harry protested feebly.

"I don't believe that, Harry. You questioned me about that potion some time ago. I have to think that this has been going on for a while. And when you came to me about it, I tried to treat you like an adult. I told you why you shouldn't take it but I didn't delve any further. Apparently that was a mistake."

Harry hung his head. There was no point in arguing. Lupin would not believe him and he did not want Ginny's name dragged into it.

"Where are you getting it from?"

"I'm brewing it myself," Harry declared.

"Ah, well, we shall have to tell Professor Snape. Apparently he's been underestimating your potion-making abilities," Lupin replied dryly.

Harry did not respond. He was committed to protecting Ginny.

"And where are you obtaining the basilisk scales? Nipping down to Knockturn Alley between classes?"

Harry remained silent and studied the floor.

His teacher sighed in exasperation. "Honestly, Harry, I have to be concerned about you foremost. I don't know where you're getting it but I am stunned that you would take it. Look at yourself! Can't you see what it's doing to you?"

Although Harry knew that Lupin was right, he had no desire for a lecture. Nor did he appreciate the way Lupin was jumping all over him. He folded his arms and sat back sullenly

"Do you have any idea what that potion can do to you? It affects your mind. You won't be able to tell the difference between a dream and reality. What do you think Voldemort's going to do with your mind then?"

A wave of panic swept over Harry. It was true. His dreams were blurring with reality. He was forgetting what really happened and what had only taken place in his dreams. Had he inadvertently given Lord Voldemort the weakness that he needed to exploit? Fear gripped him like a fist.

"I'm not saying that anything like that has happened or that it will," Lupin said more calmly. He retook his seat. 'But, Harry, you have to be so careful. No one even fully understands the connection between Voldemort and yourself."

"I didn't mean for it to get so bad," Harry confessed.

"No one ever does," Lupin replied gently.

The boy felt more comfortable now. Lupin was going to help him through this but not discipline him. It was just what Harry needed.

But Lupin returned to his stern tone. "This stops immediately. And to ensure that it does, you are to report to my office each night after dinner. You may bring your school things."

"What? You're giving me detention?" Harry asked in disbelief. Although he knew he should be grateful he was not being expelled, he felt betrayed by the fact that Lupin was approaching this as an authority figure rather than as a friend.

Lupin looked as if he had swallowed something unpleasant. "I need to keep a closer eye on you, Harry. I can no longer trust that you will come to me if you are in trouble."

Harry bristled "For how long?"

"At least until Christmas break - that's not very long. Then we'll discuss it again."

'Fine," Harry muttered. May I be dismissed - sir?" he added rather disrespectfully.

Lupin frowned "I don't know, Harry," he replied. "Isn't there anything else you want to tell me?"

Harry had nothing to add. He just wanted to get out.

"Very well then," Lupin muttered, obviously unsatisfied. "I want you to head straight to your dormitory. No wandering about the corridors. I'll expect you tomorrow evening."

Harry was halfway to the door when a new fear seized him. "Are you going to tell, Professor McGonagall?" he asked, praying the answer would be no.

"I'm going to tell someone," Lupin hedged. "We cannot allow this sort of thing to go on at the school and I certainly hope that you will live up to your own responsibilities. Whoever you are getting this from is likely in trouble or putting other students in peril. You know what you need to do."

It did not sound as if Lupin intended to get Harry into further trouble. However, he did force Harry to reconsider Ginny's situation. He already feared that she was dependent on her potions. After hearing Lupin today, he was convinced that she was at risk. He wished he could speak with her immediately but did not dare defy Lupin's orders.

When he reached his common room, he was surprised to find it full of Gryffindors. The seventh year prefects were having a meeting reminding everyone about the holiday break. There would be no sign-up sheets to stay this year. Only a few special exceptions would be permitted to stay in the castle over break. This meant that Harry would be virtually the only student staying at Hogwarts, he and a few other students who had no place else to go.

He decided to retire early. He said good night to Ron and Hermione who looked sympathetic. It turned out to be a restless night. Without the potion he had trouble falling asleep and turning off his mind which was now even more troubled. He was deeply rattled from his meeting with Lupin. He had not considered what implications his potion use might have on his connection to Voldemort. Now he feared he might have unwittingly allowed Voldemort access to his mind. To make things worse, he was disappointed and angry at Lupin, as well as worried about Ginny.

So worried that after classes the next day Harry headed down to the dungeons to confront Ginny. Thinking he heard voices in the Chamber, he hesitated. Who else had Ginny let in on the secret? The voices ceased suddenly and Harry was forced to wonder if they had been a figment of his imagination or a lingering effect from the potions he had been taking.

He found Ginny standing in the middle of the room looking flushed. She greeted him with glittering eyes.

"How was your meeting with Lupin?" She asked.

Harry leaned up against the wall, trying to ignore the scents wafting from the simmering cauldron. He longed to join Ginny in a goblet full of it but kept to his resolve.

"Listen, Ginny, there's a lot of bad effects that can come from taking too many potions." He detailed what Lupin had told him yesterday.

Ginny did not seem as concerned and certainly not as frightened as Harry had been when he had heard all the effects spelled out. She implied that Lupin was exaggerating

"No, Ginny. He was right. I've been having all sorts of side effects. And I feel terrible today since I haven't taken any."

Ginny made a face. "Harry, I'm fine. You just said that part of the problem was your unique connection to You-Know-Who. Besides, you told me Lupin gave you the potion over the summer. How dangerous can it be?"

He was not getting anywhere with her and he had to admit she did not seem to be in any obvious trouble. By all accounts, she seemed to be thriving at school in her classes, on the Quiddich field and in her social life. He watched her walk over to the mixture and give it a stir. Her red hair fell across her shoulders.

"Isn't it awfully difficult to brew?" He asked her curiously.

She shrugged "It is a bit tricky but the hardest part is obtaining all the ingredients"

An alarm bell went off in Harry's head. He remembered Lupin's remark about obtaining the basilisk scales in Knockturn Alley. "Where are you getting the ingredients?" He asked as casually as he could. "They can't all be standard."

"No, they're not. And I can't buy them because I'm not a qualified witch yet. Tonks picks up certain items for me."

Harry felt somewhat relieved. If Tonks was supplying Ginny with basilisk scales, they could not be inherently dark. Still, he did not have to wonder if Tonks was getting them from Knockturn Alley as Lupin had suggested.

Harry sat down heavily. He was frustrated. Although Ginny acted as if there were nothing wrong, he had a nagging sense that there was something wrong. He himself had turned to the potions only as a way to avoid his sickening emotions. Why, then, was Ginny so dependent on them? When he tried to ask her about it, her face darkened. There was something.

"Come on, Ginny. Talk to me. I'm worried about you."

Ginny shook her head but came and sat down next to him. "I don't think so, Harry. You might think it's bad."

He sighed "I won't tell anyone. You know that."

She twisted her fingers nervously. "Everyone says I should forget but I can't. I - I miss him."

"Dean Thomas?" He asked in confusion. "You want to get back together with him?" He felt an unexpected pang of jealously.

"No," Ginny replied, looking at him as if he were mad. "Tom."

"Tom?"

"Tom Riddle," Ginny answered as if it were obvious.

"Lord Voldemort?" Harry gasped. He was appalled.

"No, Tom from the diary," Ginny clarified.

"Ginny, Tom Riddle is Lord Voldemort. You know that."

"No, he's not. Or, at least, he wouldn't have been. He wasn't like that at our age. He was charming and sweet. It wasn't until later … Tom was so good to me. How can I forget what he means, meant to me?"

Harry stared at her. "Ginny, don't you remember what he did? What he made you do?"

"It wasn't him. There were other people manipulating his memory, using his diary." Her eyes were wide and she leaned in anxiously. Apparently, she thought she could bring Harry around to her way of thinking.

"Other people? You mean Lucius Malfoy?" Harry's mind was reeling. Was this the effect of taking too many potions or something worse?

Ginny nodded vigorously. "Yes, Malfoy and -" She stopped and glanced around the room wildly. Then she began to tremble.

Dismayed, Harry did not know what to do or say. He put his arm about her, trying to be comforting "Ginny, calm down. No one can get to you here. Riddle's gone. We destroyed his diary. You're just having nightmares."

"They're not nightmares."

Harry blinked. He had just realized something. "Is that why you're taking the Elysian Elixir? So that you can dream about Riddle?"

Ginny nodded "Not at first. I started to take it to stop the nightmares I was having about my first year but then I started to remember how kind and patient Tom had always been and how much he had cared about me. That's when I realized that other people had manipulated his memory."

"And how did you figure that?" Harry interrupted, hoping that she would find the flaw in her thinking.

She seemed to hesitate, and then cocked her head to the side. "I just knew," she answered emphatically, offering no other explanation.

Harry felt very sad. He could see what had happened. Here was a beautiful, intelligent girl but Lord Voldemort had manipulated her mind terribly. In spite of the fact that he had tried to use Ginny to kill and regain a physical form, she thought that he cared about her. What's more, Harry knew that, in spite of the fact that he often felt quite isolated, if this had happened to him, a string of people from Dumbledore on down would have been there to help him through it. Had no one counseled Ginny? Even though Riddle had been destroyed, surely someone should have seen that the girl would be in need of some guidance.

"I think that you should talk to someone about this," he said cautiously "Your parents? Maybe Bill? You always got on well with the twins. Even Professor Lupin. I know he would be glad to help you."

Ginny glared at him and pulled away. Harry was not surprised. He knew she trusted few adults, except Tonks. He hesitated to mention her because he had some reservations about Ginny's close relationship with her but he did know that Tonks would have Ginny's best interests at heart. Lupin had told him how concerned she had been when Ginny took ill at the Gala.

"Have you tried talking to Tonks? You can probably talk to her."

"I can talk to Tonks about anything," she averred. "But I don't see a need to."

Harry sighed "I just don't think that you should be dreaming about this, Gin. It doesn't seem right."

"It's no worse than dreaming about torturing Bellatrix Lestrange," she shot back.

Harry was mortified. "How do you know that's what I dream about?" he gasped.

Ginny's eyes glinted strangely and she reached her wand hand towards his forehead. Harry leaned towards her, drawn in by some unnamable power. Their eyes locked.

"How do you know?" he repeated breathlessly.

"I saw it," she answered coolly - moving her hand slowly but steadily forward

"Where?" he asked, staring into her icy blue eyes.

"In your head."

"When?"

Ginny's hand was inches away, poised to touch his scar.

"In Occlumency."

Harry jerked his head to the side just before she touched his scar. He swallowed hard.

"What? You can see what I see in Occlumency?" he demanded, unnerved by the thought.

Ginny seemed surprised by his reaction. "Not usually. But I did see flashes of it that time with Snape. Haven't you ever seen anything in mine?"

He shook his head. "No. Never." How did this happen? Only the Legilimens should be able to see images. Harry remembered Ginny saying that there was something "unnatural" about the incident with Snape. Is this what she had meant? And why hadn't she told him?

"It's okay, Harry. I'm not judging you. They're only dreams after all."

Only dreams. This whole conversation was like a dream. It was surreal. He would have liked to stay longer and discuss things further but he could not be late to Lupin's. And so, once again, Harry was left conflicted over whether to be impressed or worried by the mysterious Miss Ginny Weasley.


	24. Chapter 24

Author's Note: Only three more weeks until _The Half-Blood Prince_! How can we stand the wait?

Chapter Twenty-four

It was during dinner that he first felt the burning on his left arm - the Dark Mark. Inwardly he quailed but outwardly Severus Snape remained as still as a statue. Disdainfully his eyes swept over the students assembled. Dumbledore and McGonagall were addressing them in turns. Apparently some students were using contraband potions. Issues like this arose from time to time in the school and were always dealt with harshly. Initially Snape was irritated at being detained but, with Voldemort's summons, that feeling evaporated.

With the slightest nod to Dumbledore he left the staff table. Why was Lord Voldemort summoning him? Was he calling all of his Death Eaters? Severus lived in constant fear that one day his Dark Mark would burn and he would apparate only to be confronted by the Dark Lord and outed as a spy. An agonizing death would follow. Snape did not fear his death. He knew that whatever Voldemort would do to him he had done as much and worse to others when he served as a Death Eater. What he did fear, however, was what would become of Dumbledore's plans without Snape's work.

Upon apparation, Snape found himself in the middle of a large field. A large circle of Death Eaters had already formed but there were empty spaces. More would be coming. Each time they met the circle grew in size in spite of the fact that some Death Eaters had been killed or captured. It seemed as if there was a never ending line of wizards willing to enter into the service of the Dark Lord.

Snape queued up to kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes. It was a distasteful task. Kneeling, he looked up into Voldemort's snake-like face. The Dark Lord wore a bemused expression.

"It seems my adversary wishes this farce to continue."

Snape raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Of sending my own servant to spy on me."

Snape's heart stopped momentarily but the Dark Lord laughed, reveling to think that he knew more than Dumbledore. Snape smiled conspiratorially.

"Positions!" Voldemort hissed.

The Death Eaters scurried into their places in the circle. Most were obviously nervous, if not terrified, and shifted in their places. Severus eyed them contemptuously, disdainful of their lack of control.

"My servants," Lord Voldemort began. "Some of you will know this place. You will recognize this field from the World Quiddich Cup." He paused and glanced grandly around the formation. "An amusing night, wasn't it Lucius?"

Malfoy shuffled uncomfortably.

"Many of you kept my legacy alive, spreading intimidation and terror amongst the merrymakers. Your time, however, would have been more productive restoring me to a body."

He paused again. "But we won't talk about that just yet. Not with so many new followers present tonight." Voldemort gracefully waved his bony hand. "For tonight we learn what happens to those foolish enough not to heed my call."

Severus felt his stomach turn. Somewhere in the circle Bellatrix Lestrange shrieked with excitement. Most of the Death Eaters were silent.

"Dawlish! Knott! Bring forth the prisoner!"

Two large men made their way into the circle dragging a heavily manacled wizard with them. His robes were tattered and his face was swollen, beaten out of shape. Still, Snape recognized him, as did most there.

"Ludo Bagman," Voldemort said softly. "I trust you found your quarters in Azkaban satisfactory."

Bagman shook wildly.

"I've been hoping that you could stop by because I've been wanting to check your Dark Mark. It must be malfunctioning. Otherwise I cannot imagine that you would be so foolhardy -" His voice grew savage and his eye glowed like red embers. "As to ignore my call."

"My Lord," Bagman replied piteously. "I wanted to come but my work for the Ministry … it would have been suspicious."

"Liar! Liar!" A low rumble of voices chanted from the circle.

"They no more believe you than I do," Voldemort commented. He waved the two Death Eaters away and Bagman fell to the ground. "You tried to hide from me!"

"My Lord. Forgive me!"

"You must have been mad!" He bellowed. "To think that you could hide from!"

Bagman whimpered

"How long were the Potters in hiding?" Voldemort asked, as if teaching a class.

Snape's Dark Mark burned. Voldemort desired him to answer.

"Thirteen days, my Lord." The answer came instantly to his lips but he made an effort to keep his tone neutral.

"Thirteen days," Voldemort repeated. "And that's with the Mudblood Crusader hiding them."

Many Death Eaters snickered. Snape recognized Peter Pettigrew's sniveling laugh among them. Angered, he clenched his fist over his wand. It was not Dumbledore but Black and Pettigrew who had allowed the Potters to be discovered.

Bagman began to rub his left arm, awkwardly on account of the chains.

"Can you feel it?" Voldemort inquired.

Gasping, Bagman began to rub his arm harder.

"Do you feel the Dark Mark burn?" Voldemort asked viciously.

The circle began to close in. The Death Eaters were becoming excited. Bagman writhed on the ground, clutching his arm and screaming in pain.

"You will not ignore the Dark Mark again!" Voldemort yelled. Putting his wand in front of his face, he curled his lip and tapped his wrist.

Bagman was immediately consumed by flames. Unable to move, he could do nothing but scream

Many Death Eaters looked away as the stench of burning flesh hit them. Others pressed further inward like jackals. Snape did not move. He watched the grotesque scene stoically, knowing that the Dark Lord would be watching. Indeed, Voldemort was not watching Bagman's death throes but eyeing the reactions of those in the circle.

"Let that be a lesson to you all," Voldemort muttered when it was finally over and Nagini slithered in to consume the smoldering remains. "But Lord Voldemort has other lessons to teach, as well, to those who will learn them. For Lord Voldemort rewards his faithful servants." He began to stride around the middle of the circle.

"Bellatrix Lestange," he called. "Come forward."

Bellatrix threw down her mask and ran forward, throwing herself at Voldemort's feet "Master!"

"The Lestranges went to Azkaban for me," he declared. "They were faithful, ever faithful. And now Rudolphus Lestrange has given his life for our cause."

Rudolphus Lestrange had recently been killed by Alastor Moody. It was pointless, Snape thought. Moody would have brought him in but Lestrange had resisted, possibly to avoid being questioned.

"I reward loyalty," he announced, helping Bellatrix to her feet.

Bellatrix looked as if she wanted to shed tears of joy. It was difficult to believe that she had just lost her husband.

"My Lord, I seek no greater reward than to serve you," she cried.

Voldemort waved his wand and a circlet of silver encrusted with emerald appeared. It shown in the moonlight and he held it up for all to see. Some gasped in surprise; other in admiration.

"You guess correctly, my servants. This is an artifact from our ancestors, the rightful rules of wizarding kind. Treasures like this still exist, scattered in the manors of our sympathizers and titled families. Many more are hidden within the castle and they shall be ours again."

There were murmurs from the Death Eaters.

"When the Nobility was torn asunder during the Revolution, some, like Slytheran the Great, had the foresight to hide our more powerful treasures. He knew that eventually his heir would rise to reclaim the throne and hold dominion over all. That day draws near! I give this to you now, Bella. Know that you shall wear it when we retake the castle and I am crowned the eternal king of wizarding kind!"

Bellatrix's eyes showed like lanterns.

"When we, the rightful leaders of wizarding kind, return to full power, there will be treasures enough for all."

"I am not fit to touch the hem of your robes and yet you reward me," Bellatrix remarked emotionally. "I exalt you, Lord of Darkness, Master of Death, our own true King!"

He placed the circlet on her head. "The powers in this circlet are deep and dark. I leave it to you, Bella, to discover its secrets."

With the circlet placed upon her head, Bellatrix stood haughtily in the center of the circle. Snape felt a sudden chill. Terrible enough on her own, Severus dreaded what she might become with even greater Dark powers.

Clearly pleased with her, Voldemort reached out and touched her face almost tenderly. "What was the greatest loss you were forced to endure in Azkaban?" he inquired

"That I was separated from you, my Lord."

The Death Eaters cheered.

"There are some who say it was your beauty," Voldemort mused. "When I begin my reign, I shall restore you. And for the rest of your life, you shall suffer no further touch from time. Such is the power of Dark Magic."

Marveling perhaps at the boldness of the claim, Bellatrix Lestrange was uncharacteristically silent. Perhaps it was claims such as these that brought her to Voldemort in the first place. Now her mind was so twisted she could not even see Voldemort's empty promises. Fourteen years in Azkaban and a dead husband were the Dark Lord's gifts to her. Yet she still worshipped him like a god. Snape beheld her in the darkness, a woman totally consumed by the Dark Arts.

"Some of you do not grasp the full power of the Dark Arts," Voldemort observed "The Dark Lord will initiate you. Those that are worthy."

With a flourish of his wand, the circle was filled with a handful of chained wizards.

"These servants have failed me. I leave it to you to deal with them."

The Death Eaters in the circle began to close in, wands at the ready. Bellatrix shrieked with glee and Snape's heart quickened. He could feel the strength of the dark curses being cast and his wand grew warm in his fist. He longed to take in the energy surrounding him and, with Voldemort watching, he feared to arouse suspicion by not participating.

As it turned out, he did not need to act at all. He suddenly felt himself disapparating, though he had not attempted to do so. He reappeared on the ground floor of Azkaban with a smaller group of Death Eaters, the inner circle. Voldemort was already seated and Bellatrix Lestrange took her customary seat in the high-backed seat at his right. The other Death Eaters loomed anxiously. Some took seats and other, like Snape, remained standing.

He scanned the room, looking for the woman he had identified as a likely spy at an earlier meeting. Claudia she had called herself. Finding her near the back, he attempted to study her surreptitiously. He was unsuccessful. The woman turned towards him and bowed slightly. Snape could imagine her grinning beneath her mask.

"There have been too many failures!" Voldemort fumed. "That is why I've brought you here."

There was a nervous rumble.

"Why are we still defeated by the forest? Lord Voldemort asks. Because of MacNair's unfailing ineptitude? Yes, that has certainly played a part. But none of you, my most faithful, lifted a wand to aid him although you knew it to be high priority" Voldemort surveyed the assembly with contempt. "MacNair is fortunate that the Aurors have him and not I. He will rot in some wizard prison unaccosted. But you -" He left his sentence hang unfinished but the threat was clear.

Some of the Death Eaters began to make excuses and Voldemort did not appear pleased. "Karkarov has a supposedly fool-proof plan for retrieving the item. You are to aid him in whatever way he requires. Otherwise, I shall be forced to deal with you all much more harshly."

Many of the wizards started at the name of Karkarov and Snape was one of them. He had assumed that Karkarov had fled and been killed but apparently he had been serving the Dark Lord since his return. Karkarov's loyalty had always been a question mark and this forest assignment was likely the only opportunity he had to prove his loyalty to the Master.

Karkarov bowed. "I will not fail you, my Lord."

"See that you don't," Voldemort replied. "On to other failures. We've recently suffered some unnecessary losses and not from Aurors or Dumbledore's pesky pack. Bands of civilian wizards - far beneath us - but still a nuisance."

"They seem to be organizing," a female Death Eater observed.

Voldemort agreed. "Lucius, why isn't the Ministry stopping these vigilantes?"

"My Lord, the Minister does not feel that he has the resources to stop them. In addition, he believes that they assist in protecting the citizens."

"Why is the Minister thinking at all?" Voldemort demanded. "We went to great lengths to install Weasley because you said that you could control him until we take over. You disappoint me, Malfoy."

Snape stiffened as Voldemort pulled out his wand and pointed it at Malfoy. Bellatrix leaned forward eagerly, her eyes glinting like the jewels in her headpiece. Malfoy braced himself and everyone waited for Voldemort to cry out "Crucio!"

Instead a door slammed shut and another Death Eater slunk in. His poor posture made it easy to identify him as Peter Pettigrew.

"Master, I didn't know about the meeting," he whined.

Voldemort ignored him, signaling to all that Pettigrew's usefulness to the Dark Lord was growing short. Pettigrew's unexpected appearance did have the effect of distracting Lord Voldemort's attention from Lucius Malfoy. As Snape expected, he eventually began to brag about his attack on Potter's uncle. Snape stared stonily out from his mask as Voldemort commended him for recommending an attack away from the house. He announced intentions to attack the aunt. Knowing her to be crucial to Potter's protection, Snape suggested he go for the other boy. He heard a loud snort. It came from Claudia and drew Lord Voldemort's attention.

He beckoned her forward with a long, slender finger. "Come here, my child."

Claudia made her way forward and dropped to her knees. "You have done well, my daughter. The Dark Lord is pleased with you."

Snape's mind raced. What was Lord Voldemort referring to? What information had she supplied and how accurate was it? She was a dangerous woman but Severus dared not move against her. Doing so would reveal his true loyalties.

"You remind me of a young Severus Snape," the Dark Lord mused. "He committed himself to my destiny in his youth and his loyalty has never wavered"

"Indeed," Claudia responded dubiously.

The Dark Lord inclined his head slightly and gave his servant a significant look, which filled Snape with dread. Claudia was spying on him. He was sure of it now. And she had Voldemort's ear. How long would it be until she exposed his allegiance to Dumbledore? Severus struggled to remain in control as a wave of fear spread over him. He felt powerless. It was only a matter of time.

"Come, you shall sit by my side tonight," Lord Voldemort continued, vacating Bellatrix from her seat with a wave.

The other Death Eaters murmured as the willowy Death Eater sat down regally at the Dark Lord's side. Many seemed unnerved by Claudia's sudden rise within the inner circle but under his mask, Snape's face actually relaxed. For he had noted Bellatrix's expression when she was forced to leave her high-backed chair. Pure loathing was etched into every line of her face and her hooded eyes were locked on Claudia. If Claudia intended to take over Bellatrix Lestrange's place at Voldemort's side, it would be a fatal mistake. He smiled grimly to himself. Perhaps Claudia would not be a problem after all


	25. Chapter 25

**Author's note: Please be aware that next Friday will be the last installment of _The Alchemist's Shield_ until August. We all will need some time to read through the _Half-Blood Prince_ properly.**

Chapter Twenty-five

"The holidays will be over before you know it," Hermione said "And Ron and I will write everyday, won't we?"

"Sure," Ron agreed. "If Percy gives me any free time."

Harry chuckled but still looked downcast. Christmas break was two days away and everyone was excited over his or her holiday plans. Indeed, Viktor Krum had already left, sent by Dumbledore back to Bulgaria as an ambassador to the Durmstrang students. Harry found his absence refreshing.

Harry's own break, however, would be spent stuck in the castle with a handful of student he did not know. He hated to think of waking up Christmas day and opening presents all by himself. It would make for a very lonely holiday and he said as much to Lupin at his nightly detention.

Lupin was sympathetic and, with no other options, Harry asked if he might spend the day with him.

Lupin seemed touched. After all, they had had quite a falling out over Harry's potion use and were just now getting back on friendly terms.

"You want to spend Christmas with me?"

Harry nodded. Suddenly Lupin looked a bit awkward. "I don't know, Harry…"

"I like Tonks," Harry offered eagerly.

Lupin flushed and grinned. "I know you do. It's just that I won't be staying at Hogwarts." He paused. "I'll be at Grimmauld Place."

Harry felt a chill. He had not spoken of Grimmauld Place since last year and half-believed the house had blinked out of existence the day Sirius died. He did not feel at all comfortable about returning there but certainly did not want to spend the holidays alone. "Can't I come with you?"

"I'd love to have you but I'm not sure it's a good idea. As you know, both the Headmaster and Professor Snape will be away. Dumbledore specifically wanted you to stay at Hogwarts."

"Dumbledore wanted me to go back to Privet Drive," Harry reminded him. "Only Aunt Petunia wouldn't let me come back after what happened"

Lupin frowned "All the same, Harry. It's just not safe."

"It's plenty safe. After all, Dumbledore's secret keeper. No one can even get in there."

Lupin seemed to be wavering. "But I have certain duties I have to attend to. I won't be able to stay all day every day."

"I'm sixteen!" Cried Harry in outrage. "I'm more than capable of staying by myself." Though in all honesty the prospect of being alone in Grimmauld Place was extremely unnerving.

Lupin sighed "Dumbledore knows what's best for you."

"But you could talk to him," Harry interrupted. "He would listen to you if you told him you thought it was a good idea."

"Harry, I don't know."

Harry could tell that it was against Lupin's better judgment but he also knew Lupin would be reluctant to deny him since they were just becoming cordial again. "It's just been such a tough year and I don't really have anyone but you."

Lupin's expression softened but he did not agree to speak to Dumbledore.

Harry pursued it further. "And to be honest, Professor, I'm a little nervous to be alone after everything that's happened recently. "I'm afraid I might be tempted to -"

"Start back on the potions again?" Lupin supplied as his eyes widened in alarm.

Nodding, Harry felt ashamed. Although the temptation to return to the potion was always there, he had not meant to use it as a means of manipulating Lupin. He could not believe he had said it. It had come out of his mouth before he even realized it

Lupin misread his feelings completely. "Don't be embarrassed. I'm glad you're thinking ahead. I can't make any promises but I will speak to the Headmaster about you staying with me. Perhaps it might be better after all."

Lupin managed to come through for Harry and a few days later he was on the train bound for London. He placed his bag carefully under his seat. Carefully because it contained three flasks of Elysian Elixir. Harry had no intentions of using it but had confided to Ginny how daunting the prospect of returning to his godfather's old house was. She had insisted he smuggle some of the potion with him I case things got too overwhelming. Harry knew it was a poor choice. He knew Lupin be livid if he came across it and, yet, because Ginny had given it to him, he had packed it up anyway.

He was excited to be spending the holidays with Lupin. Tonight he and Tonks were taking Harry out to dinner in Diagon Alley and, although Lupin seemed pleased to be having Harry, he was also quite cautious. He showed Harry how to contact other members of the Order with his wand in case he was in danger. Because Lupin himself was unable to meet Harry's train, he made certain Tonks would be there the minute he got off. Such measures were necessary but Harry found them a bit tedious.

When the train stopped, Harry got off with the rest of the students who quickly joined their families. Where's Tonks? Harry wondered as he glanced around the sea of people. He could not see her anywhere. Of course, it did not help that she might be disguised either. He sat on a nearby bench to wait.

Soon the station began to empty and it became evident that she was not there. Harry was surprised that she was running late. He could not imagine Lupin or Moody leaving him on his own but he also knew how Tonks was and did not give it a second thought. Still, after about forty-five minutes Harry's stomach began to growl and he considered going straight to the Leaky Cauldron where Lupin was supposed to meet them for dinner.

He was still considering the matter when he spied Lupin hurrying through the station, glancing anxiously in all directions.

"Professor," Harry called to him. Lupin relaxed visibly at the sight of him.

"Where's Tonks?" he asked immediately.

"I don't know," said Harry. "She hasn't come yet."

A look of horror crossed Lupin's face. Although he quickly attempted to disguise it, Harry suddenly realized what Tonk's absence might mean. Something could have happened to her in the course of her work as an Auror or member of the Order. Once last year, Mad-Eye had shown him a photograph of the original Order. Most had been killed.

"I'm sure she's fine," Lupin said unconvincingly. "Just running late."

Harry watched him reach in his pocket for his wand but he did not take it out. He seemed uncertain as to what course of action to take and Harry was uncertain what to say. He hated to see Lupin so anxious, and he knew he had real cause to worry.

They did not have much time to think on it, however. Shortly after Lupin arrived, Tonks came strolling in with a take away from Beale's Fish & Chips. Harry spotted her easily, as her hair was as blue as the shopping bags she was carrying.

"Thank God," Lupin breathed.

"Happy Christmas!" she cried gaily, all smiles. Then she caught sight of Lupin's face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just that we were getting a bit worried when you were so late."

"No need to fret, Remus. I just got stuck at work," she said breezily.

Lupin was surprised. "I just saw Kingsley in the pub. He said things were quiet there."

"Alright, you caught me," she said sheepishly. "I was Christmas shopping and I lost track of time. I didn't want to say anything because I didn't want to spoil the surprise."

Although Lupin smiled, he still appeared somewhat unhappy. "Anyway, let's get some dinner. Hungry, Harry?"

Tonks monopolized most of the conversation at dinner, which was fine by Harry, because she was funny and led such an interesting life. He asked her all about becoming an Auror and her view on current events. Although still cheerful, Harry thought Lupin seemed more quiet than usual. Apparently he was not imagining it. Tonks, who seemed to take no notice of anything else, noticed it too.

"Are you feeling poorly?" She asked. "I've got some headache powders in my purse."

Lupin raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at her and she turned to Harry.

"Of course, I would never take any potions not prescribed by a healer or certified potions master," she stated primly.

Harry colored. Evidently, Lupin had told her about his problems with the Elysian Elixir. He was embarrassed but not surprised. He knew the two were close.

Tonks was not staying on at Grimmauld Place but accompanied Lupin and Harry back for "moral support." Entering the old house was even more disturbing than Harry had anticipated. As soon as he entered it, a wave of painful memories washed over him. It was as dark and creepy as ever. For a moment, Harry wished he had remained at Hogwarts. He had just recovered from his initial shock of being back in his godfather's house when the hunched, wizened figure of the Black family elf stalked by, ignoring all three of them.

Kreacher! Harry was dumbfounded. Kreacher had been involved with the Malfoys and had assisted in luring him to the Department of Mysteries where his godfather had followed and been killed. Harry assumed he would be gone or jailed. The worst part of it all was that Kreacher had laughed about the incident. Harry was struck by the sudden impulse to chase him down and throttle him or hex him into oblivion but Tonks and Lupin were both watching him and Harry did not want them to think he could not handle being back at headquarters if everyone else could. He needed to pull himself together.

"I'm going to put my stuff up in my room," he muttered abruptly and made a beeline for the stairs, leaving his bags in the entranceway.

"I'll go," he heard Tonks mutter under her breath to Lupin.

Harry threw open the door to his bedroom. Tonks, he knew, was right behind him.

"I hate him!" he snarled venomously to her. "And I hate this house!" he added for good measure.

She turned up her lip slightly, which made her look curiously satisfied. "I know and the worst part about it is he'll never be held responsible for what he did. The whole affair's been hushed up. So the Ministry will never try him. Dumbledore just has him here under house arrest but when I think of what he's done…" Her face hardened and they were both silent

"You left your bag downstairs." Tonks walked forward to hand it to him but tripped. The contents, including Harry's flasks of Elysian Elixir, spilled out. He hastily shoved them back into his bag but she must have seen them. What would she do? He was caught. Lupin would never trust him again. Why had he been so stupid as to bring them with him?

But Tonks did not say anything. Could it be she hadn't noticed? Or was she just waiting to tell Lupin?

"Well, it's late," she finally said. "If you're okay, I'm going to head home. I'll see you tomorrow."

Harry nodded and she turned to leave. Tonks had just left the room when she turned back and smiled. "Harry, I'm glad you're staying here for Christmas. It means a lot to Remus."

He smiled back. Harry waited in his room for a bit before going downstairs. He wanted to give Lupin and Tonks some privacy to say their good-byes. When he did head back down, he stopped dead on the stairs. He could hear them having what was clearly an argument. Harry turned to go back up but heard his name come up. Curious, he stayed to listen.

"You're being like Molly," Tonks said with irritation. "Harry's sixteen; he's not a baby."

Lupin sounded very cross. "I don't believe that you cannot see the problem with leaving him alone in a train station for an hour."

Oh, no. They were arguing over him. Harry felt terrible. He had been fine at the train station. Like Tonks said, he was not a child. And now they were upset with each other. He knew Lupin had not been right at dinner.

"I didn't mean to do it," Tonks shot back. "I told you what happened. There was no harm done."

"If Dumbledore heard about this he would be furious. I had to talk him into letting Harry come here. You should have told me if you couldn't make it. I am responsible for him."

"Remus, the kid is fine. Let it go."

But Lupin was apparently unable to let it go. "Thirty seconds is all it would have taken for half of Voldemort's Death Eaters to apparate there and I shudder to think what would have happened next."

No one spoke for a moment, leaving Harry to contemplate what could have happened.

When Tonks replied, her voice was much softer. "I hadn't thought of it like that."

"Well, you need to. He cannot be left alone in an unsecured location. Not even for a minute."

When Tonks spoke again, she sounded horror-struck. "He could have been killed and it would have been all my fault. How could I have been so stupid?"

"You just didn't think," Lupin said more gently. "I know because I've lived through this before. If you saw the things that I've seen, you would understand." He paused. "I would never forgive myself if I let something happen to that boy."

Tonks started to cry. 'I'm so sorry."

"Just be more careful. That's all."

More sobs.

"Come here, love," Lupin said soothingly and Harry heard Tonks walk towards him. 'There now, we'll say no more about it."


	26. Chapter 26

**Author's Note: Well it's finally here! Next week will be the _Half-Blood Prince_! So this will be the last installment until August. Thanks for reading. See you on the first Friday in August.**

Chapter Twenty-six

"Have you told anyone else about this?" Tonks asked soberly.

Harry had just confided his concerns about Ginny Weasley to her. "No, I didn't want to get her into any trouble but I thought maybe you could talk to her. I'm worried about her. She's pretty mixed up about what happened with Voldemort her first year - amongst other things."

Tonks was very concerned. She said that she would definitely talk to Ginny and soon.

Harry had just opened his mouth to comment further when Lupin came strolling in. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"No. We were just catching up," Tonks said with a wink to Harry.

He smiled back, feeling 100 better that he had spoken to an adult about Ginny. And Tonks, he knew, would be discreet. She would not tell the girl that Harry had snitched on her.

Lupin kissed her on the cheek and sat down at the table with them. "This just came for you," he said, tossing a small package to the boy.

When Harry unwrapped it a half-eaten biscuit fell out with a note that read "Happy Christmas." It was his Christmas present from Aunt Petunia. Even though it was a pitiful and rather insulting gift, Harry found himself wondering how his aunt and cousin were spending their holiday. He had to think it was not very festive there.

"They shouldn't be allowed to treat you like this," Tonks fumed.

Although he appreciated Tonks' support, Harry did not feel much like trashing the Dursleys this year. He remained quiet.

"Mrs. Figg tells me your aunt is doing okay," Lupin informed him kindly. "And your cousin … well, he'll be heading back to school at the end of break."

"That'll be hard," Tonks interjected. "He goes to Muggle boarding school, doesn't he? Which one?"

It was the oddest sensation. Although Harry knew exactly where Dudley attended school, had heard it boasted about numerous times, now that he actually had to name it, he found he could not. It completely slipped his mind. Every time he tried to tell her, he found he could not remember. Harry chalked it up to a residual side effect from the Elysian Elixir and, from the shrewd way Tonks was eying him, Harry had to assume that she had come to the same conclusion.

Lupin and Tonks began discussing plans for the evening while Harry dug into his lunch. They heard an odd scratching noise in the next room and all three tensed in their chairs. Kreacher was coming.

Lupin had already spoken to Harry about the old House Elf. "Don't let him get to you, Harry. His mind is broken. He doesn't even know what he's saying. Just try and steer clear of him and he won't bother you."

But Harry was convinced that the elf had spent the night outside his bedroom muttering and laughing madly. And where Kreacher had merely been insulting last year, his ravings now were downright disturbing.

"Master will not come back from the Department of Mysteries," Kreacher cackled in a sing-song voice. Lupin's face hardened and the elf laughed inanely as he lurched toward the table.

Filled with revulsion, Harry shrank away from him. Snatching the half-eaten biscuit off the table, Kreacher immediately gobbled it up. He leaned further into the table, pressing against Harry.

'Get off me!" the boy shrieked. 'Don't touch me!" He fingered his wand. It was warm to the touch and he itched to use it. "Get away from me!" There was a note of panic rising in Harry's tone. He was disturbed by the intensity of his feelings against the creature.

"Get out of here, Kreacher!" Lupin said sharply. "You've had your lunch Now leave us in peace." He put a steadying hand on Harry's shoulder.

Still Kreacher continued to lean over the table picking food off their plates like a poorly trained house pet. Tonks looked as if she were two seconds away from hexing him into next week. She glared at him with obvious loathing.

"Drop it!" she demanded when he grabbed her bumbleberry scone. "And get out of here!"

Dropping all the food that he had snatched, Kreacher backed out of the room, bent slightly at the waist.

"How dare he!" Tonks cried as she shuddered with anger. "How dare he show his face in here and with Harry."

"You managed to scare him off," Lupin said. "I can't believe he listened to you."

"He's so crazed. He probably thinks I'm Bellatrix Lestrange!" She said it lightly but her face darkened at the name of her aunt.

Because of Kreacher, Harry kept close to Lupin or whoever else happened to be in the house. Generally, the elf stayed out of sight but it seemed like whenever Harry was alone he would seek him out and Harry found it virtually impossible to ignore his ravings which often seemed quite personal.

Otherwise, Harry was quite enjoying his holiday. Lupin and Tonks both spoiled him and a number of visitors came through Grimmauld Place for business and social calls. Although Dumbledore frowned on too many owls coming to headquarters, Hermione and Ron, true to their word, wrote nearly everyday.

Hermione was having a marvelous time with her parents, though she did worry about Grawp. Apart from Hagrid, she and Krum were the only people he ever saw. Ron said little in his letters and Harry suspected he knew why. Some of Percy's actions as Minister were beginning to attract bad press. Ron was likely embarrassed by him.

There was one owl that Harry looked for that never came, Ginny's owl Monticore. Although she had not said that she would write, Harry found himself looking daily for a letter. He missed her. He thought of sending a card by way of Hedwig but what he really wanted was to see her again. So much so that he eventually stammered a request of Lupin about using the fireplace.

Lupin looked distinctly amused and Harry felt certain that his request would be repeated to Tonks. He blushed, embarrassed, but Lupin attempted to be casual. "Of course, Harry. There's a full jar of floo powder on the mantle. I know you two will want your privacy so just give us the word and we'll clear out of the drawing room."

A couple of days after Christmas, Lupin informed him that he had an assignment for the Order and he would be out for the night. Harry swallowed hard. Although he had insisted that he could stay by himself in the house, the truth was that he now feared to do so. He had barely slept since he had come to Grimmauld Place. Kreacher's ravings, combined with a number of eerie noises and dark artifacts, gave the Manor a sinister, isolating air. It made Harry feel powerless, though he was loathe to admit it.

Lupin, however, had apparently guessed as much. "I've asked Tonks to spend the night here," he told Harry. "She'll be here after work."

There would be a short period where Harry would be on his own but he felt comfortable with that. He was just grateful that he had not had to reveal his true feelings to his teacher.

On his way out the door, Lupin turned back. "If you have any problems and you can't reach Tonks, use the floo network to contact the Weasleys. They'll be happy to assist you."

After Lupin left, Harry brought his things down to the Drawing Room where he planned to camp out until Tonks arrived. He turned the WWN on high to keep him company and locked all the doors into the room. Despite what Lupin had said, Harry was certain that Kreacher would come looking for him once he realized that Harry was alone in the house.

Shortly after, Tonks' head appeared in the fireplace to check on the boy. She would be leaving the Ministry soon and asked him what he wanted for dinner. Relieved that she was on her way, Harry began leafing through a book that he had received for Christmas.

He could hear Kreacher shuffling around in the hallway, laughing to himself as Harry imagined he had the night Sirius was killed. Then he tried to enter the drawing room. He pulled on the doors and the handles shook.

"Master will not come back from the Dept. of Mysteries," he shrieked gleefully.

Even on its highest setting, the WWN was not able to drown out the disturbing sounds of Kreacher trying to get into the room or extolling the praises if the ladies Black and Lestrange. No longer able to concentrate on his book, Harry paced anxiously in front of the window waiting for Tonks.

When Tonks did appear it was not at the door but again in the fireplace. Her hair was out of place and she appeared distinctly frazzled.

"Harry," she called. "Something's going on here and I can't get away just now."

Harry felt a surge of panic. "Well, how long will you be?"

Tonks brushed a long strand of hair out of her eye. "Another hour, maybe two. You'll be alright, won't you?"

"I don't know …" Harry started nervously.

"Is something wrong?"

Harry bit his lip. While there was nothing actually wrong, he was feeling increasingly unnerved in Grimmauld Place.

"Harry? Oh, how stupid of me! Remus said you would get scared in the house by yourself -"

"I'm not scared!" Harry bristled.

"I'll tell Arthur Weasley. He can sit with you until I get done."

Harry convinced her that he was alright and did not need Arthur Weasley to sit with him. He would be fine on his own.

Tonks still seemed hesitant. "Use the fireplace if you need me. I'll come straight back."

Harry agreed, pleased that Tonks no longer believed him to be a scared child, but the minute she popped out of the fireplace he regretted his decision. He felt alone and powerless.

"Did you love him, little Potter?" Kreacher cackled from the hallway. He pulled and scratched at every door, as though desperate to get in.

"Shut up!" Harry screamed. He threw his book at the door. Every dark moment from last year looped through his mind as Kreacher continued to taunt him. Before long, Harry no longer cared if Tonks thought he was afraid. He got up to use the fireplace but, to his horror, the jar of floo powder had vanished. Had the House Elf taken it? Utter despair set in. Harry dropped to the floor and covered his ears tightly with his hands.

When Tonks appeared in the fireplace for the third and final time, Harry could not even focus enough to have a conversation with her. His things were strewn all over the floor and he appeared quite disheveled when he peered into the fireplace. Kreacher was still ranting in the background. Tonks made no comment on the scene before her but assured the teenager that she was on her way back. Harry, however, was well past caring if she came back or not. Even if Tonks appeared immediately and chased off Kreacher, she could not stop his taunts from ringing in his ears nor could she alter any of the terrible events that haunted his thoughts.

Desperate for a respite, Harry reached for the Elysian Elixir that he had sworn he would not take. Gulping it down, he collapsed on the couch. Kreacher was still raving in the background but his cackles soon faded, replaced by the now familiar screams of Bellatrix Lestrange.

Waking up the next day, Harry felt extremely refreshed and calm - and no wonder, it was practically lunch time. He was still on the drawing room couch but someone had thrown a quilt over him. The room had been put back in order and his things were stacked neatly on the floor next to him.

"Well, look who's up," Lupin said cheerfully when Harry wandered into the next room. "We thought you were planning on sleeping right through the day."

Harry smiled weakly. "Is Tonks still here?"

"No, she left about an hour ago. She told me that she got caught up at work last night but that you were doing okay. She did check in, didn't she?"

"Yes, several times," replied Harry. He did not want to talk about last night. He was rather embarrassed about how he had fallen apart and did not want to give Lupin any reason to suspect that he had taken Elysian Elixir again.

"She was so upset that she couldn't get here right away," Lupin explained. "But you know her work is important. And when she did get back you were sound asleep on the sofa. She hated to wake you."

Harry said nothing. Although he had been upset with Tonks last night, he knew she really was not to blame. Her work as an Auror was crucial and she had checked in several times. She had even offered to contact the Weasleys. Besides, the last thing Harry wanted was to be the cause of another argument between her and Lupin.

Lupin went on to say that he had to run an errand in town. "We can use the floo network."

Harry was about to tell him that there was no floo powder left but when he glanced in the next room he could see that the jar had been replaced. It did not really matter. He wanted Lupin out of the house because what he wanted most of all was another dose of Elysian Elixir.

"Can't I stay here?"

Lupin appeared surprised and, after all, why would he not be? Harry had barely left his side since they had come to Grimmauld Place.

"I just wanted to see if I could get in touch with Ginny," Harry lied hastily.

A look of realization dawned on Lupin's face and he smiled. "I won't be long."

The minute the door shut, Harry started up to his room to get his potion. Kreacher, however, had apparently heard Lupin leave and followed Harry up the stairs.

But Harry was not as distressed as he had been before. A night spent envisioning Bellatrix Lestrange writhing under his curse made Harry feel more powerful. He hated the elf but he no longer feared him.

Even before Harry had taken the potion, his hand tingled intensely. He fingered his wand. It was warm and that sensation traveled up his arm. He pulled it out and pointed it at Kreacher, hoping to scare him off. Unintimdated, the elf merely cackled and boasted about his part in Sirius' death.

Harry could barely stand it. He literally shook with fury. It almost felt as if he were dreaming again and it seemed as if he most natural thing would be to cry out "Crucio" and watch Bellatrix fall to the ground. But this was not Bellatrix Lestrange, it was Kreacher, the House Elf. Still, Tonks had said that he would not be punished for his part in Sirius' death. Now he, Harry, had an opportunity to punish him. The power was all Harry's. He could feel it coursing up his arm.

"Never used an unforgivable curse, have you, boy?" Kreacher shrieked madly.

Harry stiffened. They were the very words Bellatrix had screamed at him in the Department of Mysteries when he had been unable to make the curse work.

He could make it work now. He knew it, felt it deep within his core. Something in the boy's face must have changed because Kreacher's eyes suddenly widened in fear. He fled from the room and ran down the hallway.

Harry sprinted after him without thinking. It felt very much like in his dreams where he had so often chased Bellatrix. His wand was already over his head, poised to cast the curse he had so often dreamt of. He opened his mouth, intending to scream "Crucio" but, to his surprise and delight, another curse came tripping off his tongue.

"Avada Kedavra."

Kreacher tumbled lifelessly down the staircase.


	27. Chapter 27

**Author's Note: I took off a bit more time with Half-blood than I imagined that I would. Since most of this was planned and written before HBP it's pretty much alternate reality, but still fun. I will be back to posting on Fridays, but only every other one. See you in two weeks!**

Chapter 27

The sound of Kreacher's descent shocked Harry back into reality. He had killed the house elf. He did not need to see the body; he knew he was dead. Kreacher would never see another day. He was gone. And why? Because Harry had chased him down and cursed him in the back. It was utterly reprehensible and the horror of it sickened Harry. For a moment he thought he would be ill but suddenly he felt quite different.

The air seemed to change. It felt static, as if charged, and it tingled enticingly where it hit Harry's skin. His lip turned upwards in an odd smile and he felt powerful, much like he did when he took the elixir but infinitely more so. His heart pumped hard in his chest.

A high-pitched voice laughed triumphantly in his head. "Every curse in my name gives me ever greater power!"

Unnerved, Harry put his hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out the voice he knew to be Lord Voldemort's. He then realized to his horror that the words were spilling out of his own mouth. Instinctively, he tried to close his mind but his scar began to burn fiercely and he fell to his knees. It felt horribly familiar, like the time Voldemort had tried to possess him in the Department of Mysteries. The pain intensified and he blacked out.

When he came to he felt sick and feverish. His scar ached and his legs buckled when he tried to stand. Although he vividly remembered killing the elf, he was otherwise disoriented. Not too disoriented to realize, however, that someone could come in at any moment. Lupin had said that he would not be long. He needed to put as much distance as possible between himself and Kreacher's body. Unable to walk, Harry struggled to make his way down the hall. When he reached the end he crumpled up in misery. Not long after he became aware of someone's arrival.

The boy's stomach churned. Someone was at the front door. He could hear the handle turning. Who would it be and what would they do? What were the consequences for killing a house elf? He struggled to lift his head but the pain was too great. It fell back on the hard wood just as the front door opened creakily downstairs. It was Lupin.

"Harry, I'm back," he called cheerfully. "I've brought some eggnog for later."

Unable to speak, Harry listened as Lupin hung up his cloak and walked toward the staircase.

"Kreacher! My God!" he cried. There was another moment of silence before Harry heard Lupin running through the downstairs shouting his name frantically.

He thundered up the stairs, apparently taking them two at a time, and then halted. He must have spotted Harry sprawled motionless at the end of the hall.

"No," he murmured. "Not Harry."

Harry expected Lupin to run to his side but he did not. Instead, he walked mutely down the hall at a painstakingly slow pace. Each footstep echoed ominously throughout the house. Reaching the teenager, Lupin dropped heavily to his knees and fumbled for the boy's wrist. He found a pulse and heaved a sigh of relief before springing back into action.

"Harry! Can you hear me?" He shook him roughly.

Harry let out a weak moan. It was all he could muster. Rolling the boy onto his back Lupin gasped.

"Your scar! What's happened?"

But the boy was unresponsive. In truth, Harry could barely see. His vision was blurred and things seemed to spin before him.

Reaching for his wand, his mentor cast a charm to call for help. It was the very charm he had shown Harry before they came to Grimmauld Place. Harry moaned and writhed in pain.

"I'm getting help, Harry. Just hold on."

Harry reached out blindly and clutched at the hem of Lupin's threadbare robes. He was attempting to gain some measure of comfort, though in his heart he knew he deserved none. Lupin reached down and clasped the boy's hand firmly as Harry lapsed back into unconsciousness.

He awoke to the sounds of Kingsley Shacklebolt and Alastor Moody bursting through the front door.

"Remus, are you alright?" Shacklebolt shouted. "What's happened?"

"Someone's attacked headquarters. Kreacher's dead and Harry's pretty bad off."

Running up the stairs, the pair bent over Harry.

"Is he going to make it?" Moody croaked to Lupin.

"I d-don't know," he answered in a broken voice. 'I can't find what he's been hit with."

"Odd they didn't finish the job," Moody grumbled.

Harry could just make out the three shapes moving and he blinked repeatedly to bring them into focus.

'Potter, what happened?" Moody barked.

Harry made no answer.

"Who did this to you?" Shacklebolt asked.

Mad-Eye leaned all the way down so that his wispy hair nearly brushed. Potter's face. "Was it Snape?" he hissed.

"Severus is with Dumbledore," Kingsley said impatiently. "You know that."

Moody was unconvinced. "No one's walking through Dumbledore's security," he muttered. "It had to be one of us."

Kingsley was forced to agree. "It could be that spy," he mused. "Or someone not acting of their own accord."

Harry's body tensed as a fresh spasm of pain washed over him. He clutched at Lupin's hand despairingly.

"We can't worry about this now," Lupin snapped. "We have to do something for Harry."

"If only we knew what happened –" Kingsley started.

Lupin interrupted him. "We have to get Dumbledore!"

The mention of Dumbledore hit Harry like a sudden dousing of ice water. He knew that he would be unable to deceive him, especially not now and in this condition. Dumbledore would take one look at him and know instantly what had transpired. And what would he do to Harry, a murderer? Although he had often been quite angry with the old wizard, he had never actually been scared of him, but now Harry was seized with a fear so great it overwhelmed everything else. He had never been scared like this, save the time in the graveyard when Voldemort had returned. Yet now he was terrified, terrified by the mere thought of Albus Dumbledore. The old man who looked after Harry's welfare now loomed in his mind like a villain threatening his very existence. Confused and conflicted as he felt about everything else, Harry knew one thing with certainty. He could not come into contact with Dumbledore, at least not today. Mad Eye and Kingsley also seemed reluctant to bring in their leader.

"Let's not lose our heads," Kingsley murmured. "We can't endanger their mission unless absolutely necessary."

"But this is Harry Potter!" Lupin insisted.

"It's true, Remus," Moody growled. "Trying to contact them now could put them in mortal danger. Now as far as Snape goes, I don't rightly care but Albus -. Besides something doesn't seem right." He thumped back down the stairs where Kreacher's body lay.

"We have no other option! We don't even know what's happened. We have to get Dumbledore – he needs to know."

"Look, the boy's coming around now," Kingsley said as Harry struggled to speak.

Lupin turned his attention to Harry while Kingsley and Moody discussed what action should be taken.

With enormous effort, Harry gasped, "No Dumbledore. Don't get him."

"Harry, you're badly hurt. We need to get you help. We have to summon him."

"Potter doesn't want him sent for. Let's have a healer take a look at him. We can always get Albus later," Mad Eye called from the stairs.

"You're not thinking clearly," Lupin told Harry. "We have to get him. We have to."

"No!" Harry pleaded desperately. "Don't get him, please!"

"He's hysterical!" Lupin blurted out. "Mad Eye, please!" His tone was quickly becoming desperate and even Moody was starting to waver. He consulted with Shacklebolt.

Shivering on the flooring, Harry begged Lupin to listen to him.

"We have to get you some help. Just try and stay calm." Discovering the boy's glasses under his left leg, Lupin fished them out and set them on Harry's face.

Harry's vision quickly cleared. Now he could plainly see Lupin's face hovering over him. His eyes were fearful and there was worry etched into every line of his face.

Harry felt a pang. Here was his father's old friend, obviously terrified for Harry and never imaging for a moment that Harry was the attacker and brought all this on himself. Still, it was obvious that Lupin was going to insist that Dumbledore be summoned immediately and Harry just could not allow that.

He blinked and met Lupin's gray eyes. "Please," he murmured frantically. "Don't get Dumbledore."

It was not going to work. He could tell from Lupin's expression that the man had no intention of heeding Harry's ravings.

Struggling, Harry lifted his head off the floor. "Please." Then in a voice unbidden and quite unlike his own, like that almost of a small child, he asked again. "Please … Uncle"

They both drew back in astonishment. Lupin quickly looked away. "Alright, Harry," he said grimly. "You win. We won't send for Dumbledore."


	28. Chapter 28

Author's Note: Thanks for reading. See you in two weeks!

Chapter Twenty-Eight

The decision was made to send Harry Potter to the hospital wing at Hogwarts. There were concerns that word of the attack would leak out if he were in St. Mungo's. Madam Pomfrey, however, was unable to determine what exactly was wrong with the teenager. Her best guess was that he had been hit with some mind-altering spell though she could not explain why he was so physically ill. Treating him with a variety of remedies to rest the mind and alleviate pain, she was at least able to stabilize him but Harry was clearly still suffering and unable to give an account of what had occurred.

Nymphadora Tonks took over at Grimmauld Place so that Lupin could stay at the castle while Harry was ailing. The first night was the worst. Harry's awareness seemed to flicker and he writhed in obvious torment, even tearing at his own skin. His face was ghastly white while his scar pulsed a crimson red. It was terrible to watch and Remus felt utterly useless. Although he was in and out of Harry's hospital room, his presence seemed to bring little, if any, solace.

In fact the only person who seemed able to calm the teenager was Ginny Weasley who by rights should not even have been there. Until such time as Albus Dumbledore was able to be safely contacted, word of the attack was to be kept confidential. Lupin was more than a little surprised when Arthur Weasley appeared in the hospital wing with his daughter tagging behind.

"How's he doing? Poppy wouldn't say and Molly's worried sick."

Lupin shook his head. "No one really knows. We just hope there's no permanent damage done."

Arthur lowered his voice. "I know we shouldn't be here but Ginny found out about the attack and absolutely insisted she be allowed to see Harry."

Lupin glanced behind Arthur. Ginny did look a bit stricken or something. Poor girl. But who had told her?

"I assume she found out from Tonks," Weasley said, apparently reading Lupin's mind.

Remus nodded absently. It sounded like something she would do. Although he did not consider the Weasleys to be a security risk, the point was that they did not know who the risks were. It could be anyone. He wished Tonks would be a bit more discreet.

Eyes closed, Harry lay restlessly on his side. It seemed as if every nerve in his body were raw and even the cotton sheets on the bed were agitating. He heard footsteps in the room but, thinking it to be Lupin or Pomfrey, he did not stir. Even with his eyes shut, however, Harry soon realized it was not someone coming in to check on him. He sensed a distinct presence and felt drawn to it. Raising himself on his elbow, he found Ginny Weasley standing resolutely in the doorway. Without his glasses on, her features blurred. Her long red hair looked like tongues of fire licking her face.

Without taking his eyes off the girl, Harry sat up in bed and fumbled for his glasses. "How did you know I was here?" he murmured.

"I just knew," she answered with a familiar cock of her head. She stepped purposefully into the room and the door shut behind her of its own accord.

Taking a seat by Harry's bedside, Ginny eyed him intently. "What happened?"

Harry sensed that she was not seeking an explanation. He blinked at her, owl-like, from behind his glasses.

"Show me," she whispered. Ginny reached out her wand hand as she had once before but this time Harry did not flinch but leaned forward spellbound.

She pressed her palm against Harry's scar but caused him no pain. Immediately his head began to teem with images much as it had done in his earliest Occlumency lessons but they were not uncontrolled, random flashes as they had been then. Ginny was somehow accessing his memories of Kreacher's murder and likely feeling his accompanying emotions as well. Yet he did not find the prospect disturbing, rather he felt oddly calm as if he had been meditating on a troubling matter.

Ginny made to pull away but Harry reached up and prevented her from breaking the connection. He attempted to cast his mind into hers and to his surprise he found he could do it rather easily. His stomach jumped with excitement. Suddenly he was invaded with a dizzying barrage of images and emotions which were not his own. Try as he might, Harry was unable to control or make sense of any of the images racing by. But one thing he could sense at the center of it all, Lord Voldemort. When Tom Riddle had said that he had poured a little of his soul into Ginny, this is what he had meant. Ginny was connected to Voldemort in some way just as he, Harry, was. Suddenly everything made sense. Ginny's sudden growth in power, her insight into Harry – both stemmed from her possession five years ago. Not that she was possessed now; clearly she was not. But while Harry had railed against any sign of a connection between him and Voldemort, Ginny seemed to have accepted it and thrived.

Harry lay back against his pillows, feeling tranquil but suddenly exhausted. Ginny met his eyes but they said nothing to each other. There was no need to. They understood each other now. With a sigh, Ginny folded her arms on the edge of the bed and rested her head on them. Harry stroked her hair absently until Nurse Pomfrey threw open the door clucking about unauthorized visitors.

Harry seemed to turn the corner after Ginny's visit and was already much better the following day. He was fully conscious and in much less distress. His scar no longer hurt and Pomfrey was quite pleased with herself. Harry was placidly taking her potion when Alastor Moody came clunking in. Harry glanced hopefully at the door but Moody was on his own. Although Harry had always liked Mad Eye, he was now uncomfortable around him. Moody seemed suspicious of the incident with Kreacher and Harry feared he would discover the truth.

"Feelin' better, Potter?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Let's you and I have a little chat about the other night then."

Harry swallowed. Did Moody already know?" He did not seem to yet he obviously doubted Lupin's explanation. If only he knew what Mad Eye was thinking, then he, Harry, could answer his questions a bit better. He found himself attempting to cast his mind into Moody's as he had with Ginny. Of course nothing happened, but it put Harry in mind of the Legilimens Spell. He felt a new strength and he wondered if he could pull it off. He worked his wand under the bed sheets while concentrating on working his way into Moody's mind. He was shocked when he realized that he had managed to gain access. After all, he had not even used the incantation. But sure enough, various images began to swim before him. Just as quickly as they started, however, they stopped. All went black as if a light had been switched off and Harry suddenly felt empty. The emptiness soon turned to panic, however, for it was not Harry that had broken the connection.

"Get some rest, Potter," Moody growled and he departed, shutting the door carefully behind him. "I'm sending for Albus. If he can possibly get away, he needs to come back."

The reason Moody suddenly decided to send for Dumbledore was unknown to Lupin but he was relieved. He had not been comfortable with the wizard's absence, not since the attack. Besides, Lupin was beginning to doubt his own judgment regarding the boy. After Harry was taken to Hogwarts, several flasks of Elysian Elixir were discovered in his room at Grimmauld Place, at least one of which had been emptied. Lupin was dumbfounded. He could not believe Harry had taken it again and right under his nose.

In response to the summons, Dumbledore was first to arrive. He was heavily disguised with unruly black hair and ragged robes. He resembled the mad wizard Rasputin that Lupin had studied in his school days. He immediately retired to the headmaster's office.

Snape stalked in a half hour later. He was wearing his customary black tailored suit with his black robes draped neatly over it. There was no one in the entranceway to meet the Potions Master and, from the look on his face, Remus thought better of greeting him. Suddenly, Lupin was nearly knocked off his feet. Moody had pushed him aside, limping quickly toward Snape. Grabbing his black robes, Moody shoved him roughly against the stone wall.

"If you had anything to do with this, Snape – so help me –"

Lupin gasped. While he had witnessed Moody treat Death Eaters like this, he never envisioned Moody manhandling one of their own. It was no wonder they called him Mad Eye.

Snape, however, appeared entirely unconcerned. "You're raving, Moody. Undoubtedly that's the reason the Aurors forced you into retirement."

Mad Eye did not back down. "If Potter does not recover, I'm gonna come looking for you."

Severus blew a tendril of black hair out of his face. "Oh, I think we both know he'll recover. Dumbledore has already informed me as to why you felt the need to call us back. So I happen to know that you don't think I had anything to do with that situation. You are still ranting about something that happened in your imagination seventeen years ago."

"My wife's murder was not imaginary," he answered grimly, tightening his fist on his wand.

Lupin thought he spied a shadow cross Severus' face but when he looked back his mask of contempt had returned.

"Your little fantasy about a killer at large is a long standing joke, Moody, as are you."

Lupin could not believe that he was a witness to this but, fearing it could get violent, he thought it best to stay.

"I know someone got away," Moody growled. "I just know it. You better hope I don't find out it was you!"

"This insanity is not worth my time," Snape muttered, turning on his heel. "There was a documented eye witness who swore that all the attackers were killed that night. It was Lily Potter, wasn't it?" He arched his eyebrows. "I had thought that her word was gospel," he added with a trace of irony.

Mad Eye was clearly furious. "You selfish, low-life snake! I don't know what Albus sees in you but I assure you I am not so easily fooled!"

"Selfish?" Snape sneered. "It is you who are selfish. If you hadn't insisted on marrying that Muggle child, she would still be alive today."

Moody let out a roar and launched himself forward, his wand against Snape's throat. "I'm going to kill you! And I don't care if I spend the rest of my life in prison for it! I'll be doing the wizarding world a service."

Snape gulped, looking distinctly nervous.

"I'm a gentleman. I'll even give you first shot," Moody said, stepping back.

Snape stood motionless, not even reaching for his wand.

"What's the problem, Snape? Don't have the power now that you're not borrowing it from your Dark Lord? You make me sick!"

Lowering his wand, Moody stalked away leaving a speechless Lupin with his wand still drawn in an attempt to break up the two wizards.

Severus turned and regarded him sourly. "It seems your protégé has managed to make himself the boy of the hour yet again."

Remus frowned. He wanted to counter Snape but he had far too much on his mind at present. The last thing he needed was a quarrel with the potions master. He said nothing.

"He certainly has a knack for becoming the center of attention doesn't he?"

"Harry Potter was attacked. That's hardly his doing," Lupin said while at the same time wondering why he was allowing himself to be drawn into this.

"Ah, yes, the attack," Snape mused. "And the mysterious attacker quite inept. The whole thing's a bit odd, wouldn't you say?"

Lupin bristled immediately. Snape was not the first person to imply that there was more to the attack than met the eye. With Harry unable to speak for himself, Lupin felt he needed to defend the boy.

"What are you implying, Severus?"

Snape smirked, appearing pleased with himself. "I don't know. Maybe you need to ask Mr. Potter."

"Are you seriously suggesting that Harry had anything to do with this? The boy's been fighting for his life for the past three days!"

"Yes, well, if one plays with fire, one is bound to get burned," Snape said silkily.

'You had it in for that kid since he started here," Lupin responded hotly. "And I kept quiet about it but no longer. Your attitude is seriously undermining the work of the Order."

Snape let out a low hiss. "As a member of the Order, I am not required to worship an appallingly conceited –"

"This has nothing to do with Harry," Remus interjected. 'You are still holding a grudge against James Potter."

Lupin was surprised to see Dumbledore silently stride in behind Snape. His face was grave. Evidently Snape was unaware of his presence because he continued his unflattering description of Harry and, although Remus was cognizant of the old wizard, he was unwilling to let the matter drop.

"You can not continue to punish Harry for what his father did."

Folding his arms across his chest, Severus scowled at Remus.

"Alright," Lupin sighed in exasperation. He was not getting anywhere with this tactic. "Even if you hate James Potter, I had always thought …"

Snape's eyes narrowed instantly as his entire body tensed. He looked like a cobra ready to strike. Even Dumbledore looked alarmed. He shot Remus a warning glance.

"You had always thought what?" Snape demanded dangerously.

Lupin looked away, refusing to meet those black eyes. He threw up his hands and walked away without a word to either man.

But Snape apparently was not yet finished. "When are you going to learn, Lupin?" he called after him. "That there is more of Voldemort in that boy than there is of James!"

Remus Lupin stopped dead, stung by Snape's words. They're not true, he told himself but in his heart he feared they were.


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter Twenty-nine

Remus Lupin quickly changed into fresh robes and laid out his traveling cloak. The strain of recent events was beginning to tell on him and, after this morning's encounter with Moody and Snape, he was desperate to get out of the castle. He was simply not in the right frame of mind to deal with anything or anyone and, at the moment, that included Harry Potter.

Lupin had just gotten his things together when there was a knock at the door. As expected, it was Albus Dumbledore, his face somber. Striding into the room, he took a seat. Remus remained standing.

"How's Harry?" he asked the old wizard dutifully.

"Nurse Pomfrey informs me that he is much improved. She thinks he may be ready to return to his House but at my request she is keeping him for observation."

Lupin was confused. "You haven't been in to see him?" He would have though that would have been Dumbledore's first step.

Dumbledore sighed. "It may be best if I wait to see Harry until after we've figured out what has happened."

Lupin bristled. Why was everyone so anxious to contradict his account of what had occurred? If any of them had been the one to walk into Grimmauld Place that day they would have come to the same conclusions he had.

Predictably Dumbledore wanted Lupin's account of the incident and Lupin gave him a detailed narrative of the dizzying span beginning with Christmas Eve festivities and ending with the decision to send the boy to Nurse Pomfrey. Remus was still in shock. He just could not see how things had gone from happily opening presents with Harry and Tonks to mortal peril.

"I thought he was dead," he concluded hollowly. "When I walked up those stairs and saw him lying there …"

"We can only be thankful that you were there to come to his assistance," Dumbledore muttered somewhat absently.

Although he was fairly certain that Dumbledore already knew, Lupin mentioned the fact that Harry had taken the Elyssian Elixir again during his stay, possibly the night before the attack. He hated to bring up the subject. He was angry at Harry for taking it behind his back and was very disappointed in him. He had thought they had a better rapport than that. Still, he needed to mention it in case it had contributed at all to what had happened.

"Remus, I'm going to need you to have a talk with Harry this evening," Dumbledore said pleasantly. He went on to say that he had a number of specific questions that he wanted answered.

Lupin shouldered his bag. He was weary of the entire situation and now that he had reported to Dumbledore he was keen to be off.

Dumbledore, however, made no move to leave. He eyed Lupin's cloak shrewdly and frowned.

"I hope you are not allowing Severus' idle rancor to bother you."

"It's hardly idle, though, is it?" Lupin replied bitterly. He knew that Dumbledore was referring to Snape's last and most devastating comment, the one about Harry's connection to Voldemort. A sudden realization hit him. "And that's why you don't want to go in there, isn't it?"

Dumbledore did not attempt to contradict him, nor did he make any move to leave. Lupin informed him, rather bluntly, that he was taking the evening off.

"I do intend to talk to Harry but it can wait until tomorrow."

Clearly flummoxed to have his request denied, Dumbledore seemed to be contemplating how best to respond. It was then that Lupin reached around him and gathered up his things. Saying goodbye, he strode out into the corridors, leaving the old wizard speechless.

Getting a break from the situation proved to be quite beneficial for Lupin. While still upset with Harry, he was resolved to handle things. Now that the boy was up to conversation, Lupin knew a discussion was in order. Feeling unusually anxious at the prospect, he decided to check in with the headmaster before heading to the hospital wing.

As he approached Dumbledore's office, he could make out the figure of Severus Snape pacing about and looking agitated. Lupin groaned. For a moment yesterday, Lupin had felt quite bad for Snape over Mad-Eye's unfounded accusations. Although an out and out attack was unheard of, Lupin knew that Moody detested Snape and never wasted an opportunity to show it. Oddly, Snape, who complained about nearly everyone else, was uncharacteristically silent on the subject of Alastor Moody unless actually provoked. Still, any sympathy that he had had for Snape had evaporated as soon as he had started in on him.

Remus nodded at Snape who glared back.

"Is Dumbledore in his office?"

"Ah, yes, Lupin. He's filling out the paperwork for you to be promoted to head of house. He was so impressed with the manner in which you handled the responsibility of your one charge."

Lupin frowned. "Is he in there or not?"

"He's in there," Snape hissed. "But he cannot be disturbed at the moment. He's got Potter's wand."

"Priori Incantatum? Why? Harry didn't do anything wrong."

"Why exactly do you think Moody summoned us back? Because Potter had a headache? We returned when we were informed that Potter attempted to infiltrate Moody's mind."

Lupin was dumbfounded. "There must be some mistake. Harry's no Legilimens. And why would he attempt to access Moody's mind?"

"Why indeed?" Snape mused, arching his eyebrows.

Lupin moved towards Dumbledore's office but Snape stepped neatly in front of him.

"Open your eyes, Lupin! The boy is hiding something. Moody suspected it and, when he tried to question him, Potter attempted Legilimans."

His trust in Harry recently shaken, Lupin hesitated. He no longer knew what to think.

Snape loomed in, pressing his advantage. "I told the Headmaster that you would be unable to manage Potter but he refused to listen to me and now we see the results. Potter back in the grasp of the Dark Lord!"

"You don't know that. Let's wait and see what Dumbledore says."

"It should not be a surprise to you, Lupin. You are supposed to be close to the boy. And, if you were at all adept in potions, you would know –"

"I'm aware of the problems associated with Elyssian Elixir," Lupin said quietly. "As was Dumbledore."

"And yet it was uncovered among his things at Grimmauld under your supposed vigilance."

The last thing Lupin wanted to hear was Snape's opinion on this particular topic. He cut him off. "Obviously I did not realize he had brought it with him, Severus. I certainly would not have allowed it."

"You should have searched his things!" Snape hissed.

"I didn't think it was necessary. I believed that particular issue had been resolved." He paused. "I trusted him."

Snape snorted. "If you are placing your trust in Harry Potter, it is poorly placed indeed. He's never given me any indication that he merits trust. Quite the contrary, he's shown a penchant for the Dark Arts."

So now Harry Potter was a Dark Wizard? What was wrong with this man? Lupin was outraged. These were serious allegations to be throwing out and he told Snape as much.

Severus immediately became much more animated. "Again you are unable to see what is plainly before you. Already I've informed you that he used a hex on a student which was unusually, unnaturally powerful. Apparently you did not see the need to address that. Now he's advanced to using Legilimans to attack another wizard's mind."

Lupin was dismissive. "I'm not saying that he's without fault but I know Harry-"

"You think you know the boy? You think you have a relationship with him?" Snape spat, biting off each word. "Did you know that he used a Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange?"

Remus gasped before he could stop himself. "What? No!"

Thoroughly pleased to have rattled him, Snape continued on. "Oh, yes, last summer in the Department of Mysteries. He chased her down and then cast the Unforgivable Curse. Not to defend himself. Oh, no, not Harry Potter. He did it to cause horrific pain – to torture another human being."

Lupin's mouth went dry remembering the scene. He had been restraining Harry after Sirius' death to prevent him from running through the veil after his godfather but Harry had broken away, running after the Death Eater who had killed Sirius.

"Bellatrix Lestrange is hardly a reliable witness."

"Of that I am well aware," Snape sneered. "Which is why I confirmed it with a more reliable source – Mr. Harry Potter himself."

Lupin stared at Snape. The entire scenario was so unbelievable.

"And he knew exactly what he had done," Snape continued. "He tried to hide it from me but I saw it in his mind. He is no match for my Legilimans. I encountered more resistance than I had anticipated but in the end I was able to penetrate his feeble mind and learn the truth."

The fact that Severus Snape had forcibly broken into Harry Potter's mind did not even register with Lupin. All he could think about was the fact that Harry had used the worst of the Unforgivable Curses. Snape's tone indicated that it was true but he could scarcely believe that Harry was even capable of such an act. He felt as if he did not even know the boy.

Suddenly, Snape swiveled around on his heel. The Phoenix statue was moving to open the Headmaster's office. Remus closed his eyes. He so wanted to hear that Harry was blameless and he knew he was not going to.

Albus Dumbledore was not surprised to see the two men waiting outside his office. They were the two men that he most wanted to speak with: Severus with his knowledge of the Dark Arts and their master and Remus who knew and loved the boy best. Perhaps they best could advise him in some rather difficult decisions.

The three men took seats in the office. Harry Potter's wand lay in the middle of the Headmaster's desk and they all stared at it while Fawkes sang dolefully in the background.

Finally, Dumbledore began to speak. "The last spell this wand cast was Legilimens," he informed them as he picked it up off the desk. Twisting it thoughtfully in his fingers, he paused before continuing, "And prior to that – Avada Kedavra. It was Harry who killed Kreacher. There was never any attack on headquarters."

Severus Snape met his eyes and arched an eyebrow. He appeared surprised but not shocked by the news. He, Dumbledore, had felt the same. Although both he and Snape had feared that Harry might eventually fall into the Dark Arts, he had also believed that they would have some warning before it had gotten as far as this.

Lupin, however, was clearly horrified. Still, he attempted to maintain an even tone. "Did he do it under the influence of Voldemort?" he asked calmly, perhaps hopefully.

"I am afraid that is unlikely." Leaning back, Dumbledore put the tips of his fingers together. "You see the echo of the Legilimens spell is markedly different than that of the killing curse. Although there is little doubt that Voldemort is in at least partial possession of him now, I do not believe that was the case four days ago."

"Using such powerful Dark Magic probably opened him up to the Dark Lord," Snape interjected.

"Yes, Severus. I believe you guess correctly. He probably struggled against such an incursion which is why he fell so very ill. That he is no longer in distress likely demonstrates that he is no longer putting forth an effort to throw him off. Needless to say, it is a dire predicament."

"So who exactly is in the hospital wing?" Lupin asked warily.

"Harry."

"The Dark Lord." Dumbledore and Snape answered together.

Lupin sat back heavily and ran his hand through his graying hair. He looked as if he had made his last contribution to the current discussion.

Dumbledore looked at him and frowned. He felt a sudden pang. Remus Lupin was obviously devastated by this most recent turn of events and Dumbledore wondered if he could have spared him some pain by being more open with him from the beginning. Moreover, he was beginning to fear that Lupin was going to be of much less use now. Already he seemed to be pulling away from Harry as he had demonstrated last night.

To make matters worse, Severus appeared intent on placing all blame squarely on Lupin's shoulders. "Sir, is it possible that at least the possession could have been prevented if we were called back immediately?" he asked pointedly.

Albus glanced away quickly. He did not want to meet Remus' eyes. "It is possible," he demurred. He did not add probable though it was likely the truth. "But what is more important is to determine our next course of action. I confess I am at a bit of a loss."

Lupin remained silent but Snape spoke out. "Will you be able to free Potter from the Dark Lord's grasp?"

Certainly, I shall attempt to but, even if I am successful, I am not at all convinced that he should return to school." Dumbledore shook his head. "On the other hand, what then are we to do with him?"

Alone in the knowledge of Dumbledore's plan for Harry Potter, Snape seemed to grasp immediately the enormity of their dilemma. Yet he had no recommendations.

"What do you think, Remus?" Albus asked turning back to Lupin. "After all, you know him best."

Lupin made a defeated gesture with his hands. "I don't know. I certainly do not want anything to happen to Harry but if he's already dabbling in the Dark Arts …"

"Perhaps it is premature to make a decision," Dumbledore said. "If I can speak with Harry without Voldemort's influence, I can gauge exactly how far down the path he's gone."

"It's pointless to speak to him," Lupin muttered. "He's not going to be honest with you."

Dumbledore surveyed him sadly over his half-moon glasses. "That may be, Remus, but I am a Legilimens myself. I shall know if I am being lied to."

Lupin made a curious sound in his throated and glared over at Snape who was looking pointedly away.

"Is there something you wish to add, Remus?" Dumbledore asked. "Severus?"

Lupin was eying Snape with an uncharacteristically ugly look and Snape was returning it with an equally ugly but not altogether unfamiliar expression.

Finally, Snape spoke. "Headmaster, if you do attempt to access Potter's mind, I believe that you may encounter some damage there."

Dumbledore's heart sank. There was something very wrong here. He was about to question Snape further when Lupin broke in.

"You actually caused him harm?" he demanded in outrage. "Dumbledore, he forced his way into the boy's mind."

A strange, hungry look flickered across Snape's face before it was replaced by a distinctly closed expression. Dumbledore noted it.

"Legilimancy of that magnitude is powerful Dark Magic, Severus," he said calmly.

"I had no choice," Snape insisted. "The Death Eaters informed me that he had used a cruciatus curse and I needed to confirm it. You were unavailable at the time."

Dumbledore's mouth went dry. "Another Unforgivable Curse?" he murmured. It was beginning to look as if Harry Potter had already strayed too far into the Dark Arts to be recovered.

Snape recounted what he knew about the curse but something was not adding up. The man obviously knew how crucial the information was yet he had kept it to himself. Why?

When pressed for details about his incursions into Potter's mind, Snape became quite sketchy. Dumbledore's eyes, however, were drawn to Snape's left hand which was twitching sporadically over his wand. Suddenly Dumbledore realized why Snape had kept this secret. The glint in his eyes confirmed it. He had tasted the power of Darkness once again and he longed even now to taste it again.

Dumbledore had feared that this could happen with Severus working as an informant. The temptation to fall back into Dark Magic was great and now that Snape had channeled that power it would take all of his resolve to keep him from sinking into his old ways.

He wanted to address the issue immediately with Snape but he dared not do so with Lupin in the room. Lupin, who had been silent since his last outburst, was now clearly appalled at the proceedings. Snape, however, was still droning on."

"That's enough, Severus," he interjected sharply. "I think I know what happened."

"Sir?" Snape looked up anxiously.

Dumbledore gave him a significant look. "Oh, yes, Severus. I know." The old wizard had apparently made his point.

Stiffening in his chair, Severus began clenching and unclenching his fist.

"Now, as for Harry, in light of this new development I have to say I do not believe it would be advisable for him to stay on here. Hogwarts is a stronghold of ancient magic both dark and conventional."

"And with two Unforgivable Curses under his belt …" Lupin trailed off.

"Yes, it is very unlikely that he'll feel able to relinquish the power," Dumbledore lamented. He glanced over at Snape but he did not appear to be following the discussion. He was apparently lost in his own thoughts.

"Once a wizard goes dark there's no one that matters to them anymore," Remus complained.

With everyone in agreement, Dumbledore was not keen to prolong this. Lupin was clearly desperate to depart and he still had to reckon with his potions master. "I'll need some time to make arrangements for his safety. I am afraid that I did not foresee this-"

He was interrupted by a wholly unexpected outburst from Snape, an outburst which would lead both men to change their minds about the boy.

"Harry Potter is not lost!" Snape exclaimed leaping to his feet. "He can still come back."

The other two wizards stared at him in disbelief.

"He's pretty far involved in the Dark Arts, Severus," Lupin finally said.

Snape was adamant. "It matters not how far he's gone. He can come back if he wants to. If he wants to …" He rounded on Albus Dumbledore. "Will you not afford him the same opportunity you gave me?" he demanded. "And you," he said pointing a long finger at Remus Lupin. "I thought you fancied yourself his de facto family, yet you send him away at the first sign of trouble."

Lupin looked distinctly ashamed and Dumbledore too began to think that they may have given up on Harry a little prematurely. Never could he have imagined that Severus could muster up this much passion about anything, let alone a second chance for the Potter boy. Maybe it would be best to give Harry another chance if only for this man's sake.

"If you feel that strongly about the boy, perhaps it is best to try and work with him here. I shall see how my conversation with him goes."

"It is not for that insufferable youth that I feel compelled to speak," Snape replied acidly and, retaking his seat, he fixed his steely gaze on the shield hanging above the desk.


	30. Chapter 30

Notes: Sorry this is so late! I will try to get back on schedule posting every other Friday!

Chapter 30

Severus stole a glance at the door where Dumbledore was having a last word with a miserable-looking Lupin. He was speaking very intently and had placed an encouraging hand on Lupin's shoulder. Snape regarded them sourly, knowing that he himself was not dismissed from the Headmaster's office. He would have to answer for what had happened with Harry Potter during Occlumency lessons, his foray into the Dark arts.

"One never knows what can make an impact," Snape heard Dumbledore say. "A kind word, a seemingly insignificant gesture. Years later you may come to find that it made all the difference."

He was speaking to Lupin about Harry but Severus felt as is the old wizard was actually speaking about him and his mind drifted back to his own sixth year of school and a similar conversation he had listened in on between Dumbledore and his Head of House, Horace Slughorn.

"I'm sorry to take up your time with this, Albus. I know it would normally be Head of House business but you did request that I keep an eye out for the Snape boy since his brother died."

"Yes, I recall. Is there a problem?"

Slughorn sighed. "I am a bit concerned. Filius says he's struggling in charms."

Dumbledore sounded a bit surprised. "He's trying for a Newt in Charms? What are his career plans?"

"They're a bit nebulous," Slughorn replied. "He's mentioned Ministry, possibly Auror, anything high-profile. Of course, he doesn't have the temperament for it but he insisted on taking the requisite courses anyway."

Snape had flushed, embarrassed.

"Now I don't know the Snape family at all, of course," Slughorn continued. "But from what I've been able to glean, they don't strike me as the sort of people you can bring a substandard grade back to."

"Quite," the Headmaster replied succinctly.

"So I insisted that Snape get a tutor though he was dead set against it. He's a loner, you know, and none too popular with the other students."

Dumbledore sounded puzzled. "It seems as if you've settled it then. I'm afraid I don't quite see the problem."

The problem is that I've spoken to all the student tutors and no one will work with him. Filius told me that Lily Evans from Gryffindor is quite good in charms. She's a delightful girl. You know her, of course, very talented. Why in potions -"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "Yes, Horace. I do know her."

"Ah, right," Slughorn replied, getting back on track. "Well, generally I pair her up with Snape in class. They're both exceptional and seem to work well enough together. I thought for certain that she would be willing to help him but she refused. Apparently she doesn't like him anymore than the other students." Slughorn sighed. "Still, I had hoped she would be agreeable."

"Let me talk to her," Dumbledore said. "I may be able to convince Miss Evans to change her mind."

Severus was mortified. Lily Evans, the Mudblood from Gryffindor! The last thing he wanted was for her to know his weaknesses and he resented getting extra help from a Mudblood, especially one as popular and, though he was loath to admit it, as talented as Lily Evans. As a result, the tutoring sessions were very rocky at first.

Lily for her part was apparently just as unhappy with the situation choosing obscure locations to meet where they were unlikely to be seen together. Severus was always there first, waiting in the deserted west corridor, behind Hagrid's dilapidated hut or by the secluded willow on the far side of the lake. He would watch as she approached wearing a resigned expression. But she always came, ready to work, even though Snape was often hostile and nearly always insulting. Eventually, though, things between them began to improve. Snape's disparaging remarks lessened and Lily, too, began to lower her guard exchanging her air of forced cheerfulness for a genuine smile or even an occasional laugh at one of Severus' odd remarks.

In time, he almost began to look forward to his tutoring sessions. He was virtually friendless, in actuality maligned, but he never felt it with Lily. She was always courteous and clever, very clever, quite unlike the other Dunderheads whom he was forced to attend school with. His charm work improved almost immediately but that was a secret he kept to himself. He hated to lose any advantage the extra help was giving him.

Yes, that was the reason he told himself. It had nothing to do with the Mudblood Lily Evans with her silky red hair and piercing green eyes. Even so, he found himself watching her throughout the day. At meals he would search for her in the Great Hall and on Hogsmeade weekends he would tail her and her group of friends. Sometimes he would slip a particularly clever spell or helpful scroll into her cauldron. Then there was the note she had dropped one afternoon. Severus had pocketed it with the intention of returning it but he had not quite gotten around to it yet. The note was written on a pale pink paper and was obviously from a frequent correspondent as he had seen the same paper peeking out of her books of numerous occasions. Petunia Evans, her sister, he concluded. He had seen her in town with Lily on visitation weekends.

In essence, the letter was exceedingly dull. Someone had asked the writer to a dance but should she go? There was someone else she really preferred. Mindless drivel, mindless Muggle drivel at that, but he kept it, carrying it in his pocket by day and rereading it each night at his bedside.

Sometimes after practice the pair would linger and discuss events at school and the like. Lily often seemed on the verge of asking him something but she could never seem to bring herself to do so. Everything changed one spring evening as they lounged by the big willow tree near the lake. Lily had been in the middle of relating an incident that had happened the last time she was at home. She stopped abruptly and fixed him with a strange look.

"Why don't you ever go home for Christmas?"

Snape frowned. "My parents are busy people." His answer was evasive but accurate. Both of his parents were now heavily involved with the Death Eaters. Their only interest in their remaining son was as a means to further their own status by parading his scholastic talents.

'But you miss them, don't you?" Lily asked curiously. She was clearly searching for something and Snape's instinct was to pull away and terminate the conversation. His family was not up for discussion but something about Lily made him feel less guarded and more open to confidences.

"My parents," he mumbled. "They're not good people."

Lily did not look surprised but nodded slightly as if she were merely confirming what she already knew.

Snape suddenly felt as if he had been freed of some invisible force. He found himself longing to share with her what his life was like, what it meant to live with his mother and father.

Lily twisted a lock of hair nervously. "What happened to your brother?" she finally asked softly. "I remember seeing the two of you together our first year."

Severus stiffened, reciting the lie his parents had trained him to give the few times anyone had been interested enough to inquire about his brother.

"No one believes that story, Severus." Her eyes met his and she reached for his hand. "What really happened?"

Severus flinched. He did not want to remember but Lily squeezed his hand and suddenly he did not want to be alone anymore. He told her how his parents had become followers of the Dark Lord and how they had killed his brother in a Dark Ritual. The words came spilling out of him and he seemed to talk for hours. Clearly moved, Lily listened with tears streaming down her face.

When Snape had at last poured his heart out, the moon had already replaced the setting sun but neither one made to leave.

"That's awful," she whispered, drawing closer to him.

Her face, fair in the moonlight, was close to his and Severus felt his heart beat faster.

"Lily," he murmured and watched her eyes sparkle at his use of her name. It was a beautiful name and he wanted to tell her so, to say that she was beautiful but the words would not come.

Instead, he pulled her impulsively toward him, pressing his lips against hers. The girl did not respond at first and Severus dreaded that she would pull away but then she parted her lips and Severus pulled her even closer, feeling her breaths quicken. He ran his hands over her shoulders, touching her hair. She sighed contentedly.

Reclining against the tree, Severus held Lily in his arms for quite some time. The night was cool and the stars shone through the branches of the tree. It was a perfect night and Severus did not want it to end but they both knew it was getting late. Lily looked up at him and he tenderly traced her face with his fingertips. She smiled gently and pressed his hand before they got up to return to the castle.

Both were silent on the path back. Lily even seemed withdrawn and Snape wondered if her heart was as full as his. He wanted to remember everything about this night – the way her face had looked in the moonlight, the way she had felt in his arms and, most extraordinary of all, how she had wept for his sad fate. No one had ever given a damn about Severus Snape but this girl had been moved enough to cry for him. He had tasted her salty tears when they kissed and it was something he would never forget.

Over the next few days Severus found himself returning to the old willow behind the lake. He hoped that he would find her there and one day he did but it did not turn out at all as he had imagined.

As he approached the tree he heard voices and was immediately irritated. Why would she tell anyone about their private place? Lily was laughing lightly. Whoever was there she apparently found quite amusing. He ducked behind a bush and saw to his disgust that it was James Potter and Remus Lupin. Of all people to tell!

Lupin and Lily were sitting on the ground and Potter was strolling about with his hair transfigured to resemble Snape's own curtain of black hair.

"Professor," he said in a mocking imitation of Snape's voice. "The text indicates that a slotted spoon is used for this mixture but I've found that when I brew potions for fun that a flat spoon gives better results."

Snape felt a wave of fury. He hastily drew his wand and stepped forward but stopped short at the sight of Lily's face. She was laughing and her face was lit up in a way that Severus had never seen before. Worst of all, her green eyes never left James Potter. He stared at her in disbelief and something inside him started to hurt. His face twisted up and he struggled to regain his composure.

"We really shouldn't poke fun at Snape," Lily finally said. "He's been through a lot."

"Oh, yeah," Potter scoffed dubiously. "Like what?"

No! She was going to tell his arch enemy his innermost secrets. He threw himself out into the open directing a shaky jinx which missed Potter by a good three feet.

"Severus," Lily gasped. "I didn't know you were there."

"Obviously not," Snape grumbled bitterly.

"Severus," Potter chortled. "Is that what he makes you call him in Potions?"

Lily paid him no heed. Her eyes were locked on Snape who was on the verge of tears.

Lupin glanced from Snape to Lily and back. "Let's go, James. We have to meet Sirius, remember?"

Potter seemed oblivious. "I'm not leaving her here with Snivellous."

"It's fine," Lily muttered without taking her eyes off Snape.

"Whatever you want," shrugged Potter. "I'll see you later. Come on, Moony."

Lupin followed but turned back to cast a last glance at the pair.

Lily waited until they were well out of earshot and moved towards him. Snape staggered backwards away from her.

"You were going to tell him everything!" he screamed.

"No! Of course I wasn't," Lily responded, clearly appalled. "I would never do that."

"I never told anyone else about Sebastian in my life, only you. It was only you!"

"Severus, calm down. I would never betray your confidence. Don't you think I know how difficult it was for you to talk to me about it?"

Snape hesitated, thinking back to the starry night when she had held his hand but he just could not erase the image of Potter's imitation from his mind.

"That's why you agreed to tutor me in the first place, wasn't it? To find out the dirt on me for your boyfriend, James Potter!"

Lily gaped at him, moving her lips wordlessly.

"I saw the way you looked at him!" he snapped accusingly.

Lily inhaled sharply. 'I tutored you because I care about what happens to you. I didn't want you to fail an important subject!"

"That's a lie! I heard Slughorn. You didn't even want to do it!"

"At first I didn't. I admit it," Lily said stepping towards him. "But then I got to know you. You're intelligent and sensitive and I wish more people could see it."

Snape snorted.

"You haven't needed a tutor for a long time," Lily added. "I've only been coming to spend time with you."

So she knew his little secret. He did not feel the better for it. "Why did you ask me about my brother then? What's it to you?"

Lily relaxed a bit. "Severus, I want to be a friend to you. I wanted to know – I thought I could help-"

It felt as if she had struck him. He could barely catch his breath and he lashed out. "You wanted to know, did you?" he screamed.

"I thought I could help you," her voice was rising.

"Did you know that my parents chose me for the ritual?"

Lily shook her head. She looked horror-stricken.

"They picked me," he continued. "But the Dark Lord said no. It had to be Sebastian. Is that what you wanted to hear?"

"Severus, I didn't know." Tears pooled in her eyes.

"Or maybe you wanted to hear about how my mother led me over to the chair where they were planning to kill me. How they bound me to it even though I struggled." Snape's voice broke and he began to cry. "Is that what you wanted to know? She held my hand and stroked my cheek and for a minute I actually thought she loved me."

"Stop, Severus! Please!" Lily gasped. She was crying in earnest now and her face was distorted with emotion.

Snape did not care. He could not have stopped now. Not even if he wanted to. "When she pointed her wand at me it was as steady as if she were cooking a meal. With Sebastian they cried and begged the Dark Lord for his life. But not for me. I was nothing to them. Just like I am to everyone else. Is that what you wanted to hear?" he asked savagely. "Are you satisfied now? Lily!"

"There's no one who would want to hear that," she murmured softly. She reached for his arm but he pushed he roughly way.

"Don't touch me! Don't touch me you mudblood filth!"

Even through her tears she looked stung. It was satisfying. It felt good to hurt her like she had hurt him. "And another thing, Evans – I don't take charity, especially from a mudblood like you."

He reached in his robes and grabbed a fistful of coins which he threw at her as hard as he could. She rubbed her arm where they made contact.

"For services rendered," he hissed.

She was still sobbing when Severus stumbled away, devastated and half in love with her.

"Severus? Severus?"

Snape blinked hard, snapped out of his reverie by a stern-looking Dumbledore.

"Very well, Severus," he said taking a seat. "Explain yourself."


	31. Chapter 31

Chapter Thirty-one

Harry stretched out on his hospital bed. The potion Nurse Pomfrey had given him was making him drowsy, too drowsy in fact to wonder why his doses were becoming more frequent even now that he was feeling better. Of course, there were quite a few things he did not contemplate now. Voldemort was ever present in his mind and it just seemed easier to relinquish control over to him. It spared Harry from having to think about what he had done to Kreacher or worrying about when Dumbledore might return. It kept him from thinking about his uncle or his godfather or a dozen other things which were painful to consider. With Voldemort it felt as if he would never again have to stumble through the confusion of his own character again so he allowed the drowsiness to overtake him, falling into a peaceful sleep.

Soon he awoke with a start for there in the doorframe stood Albus Dumbledore. His eyes were blazing and the outside light streamed in through the window bathing him with light.

"Good afternoon, Harry." His words were amiable enough but there was an unfamiliar edge to his voice. Daunted, Harry did not respond but retreated deep into his mind. When the words did come to his lips they were not his own.

"Professor!" He cried desperately. "Nurse Pomfrey's taken my wand and the Death eaters are after me! You must get it back for me!"

Dumbledore did not approach his bedside but did step into the room, shutting the door behind him.

"That is certainly a problem," he agreed. "And one that we shall deal with in due time."

Harry felt vaguely surprised that Dumbledore did not seem more concerned. Before he realized it or even knew why he had done so, he had fallen back into the pillows and put his hand to his head, moaning piteously.

"Are you in pain?" the wizard asked, instinctively stepping towards him.

The instant he did so Harry lunged wildly at him in a desperate attempt to snatch his wand. Dumbledore reacted quickly knocking the boy backwards with a flick of his wand. Harry's head cracked against the wall.

"I don't think so, Tom."

In spite of the fact that his head was reeling, Harry immediately went for the wand again. This time he was stopped by an invisible but extremely powerful barrier. Dumbledore had apparently cast a forcefield.

"Release the boy!" he thundered. The furniture in the room shook.

"Not likely," Voldemort hissed. Then he laughed. "Surprised to see me, Dumbledore?"

Wand raised, Dumbledore was now pacing calmly through the room. "Not particularly. It's been clear to me that you must be in partial possession of him, though I knew that you would never risk leaving your own form entirely."

Far off in Harry's head a desperate voice, his own voice, cried out silently. "You knew but you did nothing?"

When he spoke again it was the stranger's voice, calm and cool. "So that's why no one's been in here to see us." He paused. "And those mind-relaxing potions that have become so frequent, not Pomfrey's idea I take it."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly by way of acknowledgement. "I needed a way to lessen the access you had to Harry's memories. And to -"

"To weaken us so as to give you the upper hand this afternoon," Voldemort supplied. Ever the puppet master, Dumbledore but today, old man, I have the upper hand. You see I have Harry Potter. It is regrettable that I do not have a wand in my possession to kill you with but as soon as your little barrier dissolves I shall have yours. Nothing would delight me more than to strike you down with your own wand by Harry Potter's hand."

Dumbledore contemplated him placidly. "Ah well, I'm sorry to disappoint but I believe your plan is rather flawed. After all you are currently imprisoned by my Circle of Protection which, if I may be allowed to say, is no small thing."

Harry's lip curled into a sneer. "Sheer bluster, old man. You do not have the strength to hold up the barrier for long, especially if you must exert to protect your mind from mine. Even now you begin to strain but I have Harry Potter. He has the strength and vitality of youth."

"You don't have Harry. You'll never have him!"

"Again, Dumbledore, I find myself at an advantage. Because in a way, Harry came to me. He summoned me to him with his desire for the power of the Dark. He dreamt of it all year and finally he gained the strength to cast the killing curse, giving me the window I needed to gain access. He struggled against me for hours, perhaps days but I won out and he surrendered. Now he is mine."

"You tell me nothing I did not already know."

"I find it all rather interesting, Dumbledore. You see, frankly, I never thought he'd be able to pull off a killing curse after spending six years as your special project."

"I certainly did not teach him Avada Kedavra," Dumbledore remarked gravely. "I myself have never used such an evil device."

Harry felt his body grow rigid with hatred. He bared his teeth and lunged at Dumbledore, bouncing off the barrier roughly but not before it had burned his face.

"Harry, don't," Dumbledore murmured.

Panting, Harry glared at the old wizard. He desired nothing more than to strike him down where he stood. "No, there's no blood on your wand," he hissed. "Not the great and good Albus Dumbledore. No! He has other means of killing those that stand in his way."

"Set him free, Riddle."

"Potter is already mine. I have been with him since infancy and there is a connection between us that you could never comprehend. Through me alone can he achieve his full potential."

"His potential for what? Through you he's become a killer, a manipulator, a liar and all that's bad. All that his parents stood against."

Deep in Harry's mind something stirred.

Dumbledore must have sensed it. "Harry," he cried. "Fight him and together we can throw him off. You must try!"

Harry made an effort to exert himself but Voldemort opposed him. Harry felt his face pressed against the barrier. It seared his skin and he screamed in pain.

"How long do you intend this to continue?" Voldemort taunted.

"Sometimes pain is necessary, Tom" Dumbledore responded in a shaky voice. The old wizard appeared weak and his wand shook with the enormous strain of holding up the barrier.

"Such ruthlessness!" Voldemort exclaimed. "What an honor for you to witness, Harry, Usually he keeps that side of himself well hidden." Then he forced the entirety of Harry's body against the barrier. Harry writhed in agony but could not remove himself from the source of the pain. Suddenly the barrier evaporated and Harry fell to the floor on all fours. Gasping he looked up at the old wizard who was leaning heavily against the wall.

"You are weak," Voldemort hissed. "Either you terminated the spell because you were too feeble to hold it or you did it to spare the boy. Either way you allowed your weakness to master you."

When Dumbledore spoke again his voice was fainter than Harry had ever heard. "Tom, you remain woefully ignorant of the power of love. It will be your undoing."

"Quite the contrary, Dumbledore. It is you who fail to understand that power. You love your ideals above all and expect the same from every other mortal but I learned early on that people would rather lose their principals than their wives."

"Harry, listen to me," Dumbledore pleaded. "You know what Voldemort has done: your parents, your godfather, and your uncle. You know of what he is capable. You must fight him!" Dumbledore's breath was coming in ragged gulps now and he held his forehead in an unlikely way.

His words did stir Harry and the boy became keenly ware of whose mind he was sharing. He felt tainted, contaminated.

Dumbledore's wand was up again and Harry suddenly saw Sirius' last moments replayed in his mind accompanied by a fresh pang of grief.

"Ignore it," urged Voldemort in his head. "This pain is unnecessary. Relinquish control to me and you shall no longer know despair."

It would have been easiest for Harry to withdraw from the anguish which now consumed him but he realized what Dumbledore was attempting to do. The old wizard was hoping that Voldemort would find his present state intolerable as he had done in his attempt to possess Harry last year.

"Focus on me, Harry," Dumbledore urged. "Together we can force him out."

Harry concentrated with all his might on the images Dumbledore had sent him. He let the grief wash over him and his heart swelled to see Sirius again. It was at that moment that Voldemort began to struggle inside him, as if to rip him apart.

Dumbledore was still speaking but Harry could no longer hear him and the image was slipping from his head. Still Voldemort raged inside him like a monster, tearing at his insides. Harry slipped into a dark void of unreachable, incomprehensible agony. He could not tolerate it and his mind suddenly went blank. He had to surrender. Burned, bleeding and bruised, he lay upon the floor.

Raising his head, Harry looked imploringly at his Headmaster. "I don't have the strength to resist him," he thought. He hoped that Dumbledore could somehow read his thoughts and would come to his assistance. Dumbledore, however, was in poor shape. He had slumped to the floor exhausted.

"It's over," Harry despaired. "He can not free me. I'm Voldemort's forever."

But Dumbledore struggled to his feet again. "Tell me, Tom. Which one of your Death Eaters do you entrust with your physical form when you are occupying Harry's body?"

"My headquarters are secret and secure."

"You mean Azkaban?" Dumbledore asked innocently.

"What?" Voldemort spat out in rage. "How do you know?"

"It may interest you to know that a party of Aurors has been sent there on a raid. They should be arriving there shortly."

"You lie!" Voldemort hissed but it was obvious that the old wizard spoke the truth. "You have not won, Dumbledore!"

"No, I haven't," Dumbledore murmured ruefully.

There was a great sound of rushing winds and the room seemed to shake around them. Harry stiffened and then relaxed. He felt completely empty. Voldemort was gone.

Dumbledore bent over him. "Harry, are you alright?"

Harry nodded. "But, Professor, won't those Aurors all be killed? Aren't they walking into a trap?"

Dumbledore looked deliberately away.

When Dumbledore emerged back into the corridors he found McGonagall and Lupin waiting for him. He glanced in both directions expecting to see the black figure of Severus Snape but apparently he had not come.

"Albus!" cried McGonagall. Her face was as white as marble.

"Were you able to free Harry?" Lupin asked anxiously.

"Yes," Dumbledore answered, satisfied by Lupin's look of relief. But no, he would not do this to Lupin again. He would have to make him understand the reality of the situation. "But Harry will never be completely free of him. While Voldemort lives, a part of him will remain in the boy."

Lupin nodded grimly. Perhaps by now, after all that had passes, he had been able to work that out for himself.

"I'm getting Poppy," McGonagall declared.

"No," Dumbledore said feebly. "She's seeing to Harry. Besides, it is the forest I need now. Minerva, please find Hagrid."

She nodded and departed instantly.

Dumbledore spied Lupin casting surreptitious glances into Harry's hospital room. "He cannot help what he is, Remus, any more than you can help what you are. Don't alienate him the way society has alienated you."


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter Thirty-two

Left alone in the hospital wing, Harry was finally able to contemplate the horror of what he had done and what he had caused. It was chilling to realize that he had actually committed murder. He had no means of justifying his actions. In spite of the warnings from Lupin, Dumbledore and even Snape, he had fallen prey to the Dark Lord, giving him free access to his mind. Time alone would tell how damaging that had been.

Dumbledore was back in his room the following day. Fresh from the forest the old wizard appeared fully recovered in spite of the lines of worry etched in his face. He immediately began to question the boy and Harry quickly realized this was no social call. Dumbledore questioned him relentlessly about events as far back as the previous summer.

Determined to be honest, Harry concentrated on giving earnest and accurate answers. He denied torturing Bellatrix Lestrange but did admit to attempting the Cruciatus Curse unsuccessfully.

"And yet Professor Snape saw it in your mind as clearly as if it had occurred which tells me that you were dwelling, fantasizing even on the thought of torturing Bellatrix Lestrange. The desire for revenge can be a natural reaction but to let emotions and desires like that take over, to allow them to drive you, Harry, that is absolutely appalling. I can give you numerous accounts of people that have done as much and every single one of them is or was among Voldemort's most notorious followers."

"I don't want to join Voldemort," Harry asserted.

"Many of his most villainous followers once said the same but they fell into it as you very nearly have."

It was sobering to hear Dumbledore compare him to the Death Eaters and Harry vowed that he would change his ways beginning with the Elysian Elixir.

"The Dark Arts are seductive," Dumbledore said. He stressed the dangers of becoming involved with them and finally addressed Harry's inherent connection to Voldemort and the possibility that he might try to direct Harry's thoughts and actions.

"Voldemort didn't make me kill Kreacher," Harry murmured.

The old wizard fixed him with an odd expression. "I know that, Harry, and, as disturbed as I am by that fact, I am refreshed by your openness."

He seemed to hesitate then pulled out the boy's wand. Harry's eyes glowed.

"I must impress upon you the seriousness of this matter. I considered breaking this wand. In fact, it was my inclination to send you away from Hogwarts. Fortunately for you, I was not the only one making that decision and I was persuaded to give you a second chance. Use it well."

Harry nodded and, as he reached out to take it, he was filled with a sense of great trepidation. For the first time he comprehended fully the great power that lay within the instrument. The pair's eyes met and it was understood that what had passed between Dumbledore and Voldemort yesterday would remain between the three of them and, with many other weighty issues to deal with, Dumbledore rose to leave.

Harry stopped him. There was something bothering him that had not been discussed. It was one of Harry's deepest regrets.

"Sir, Professor Lupin ..." He started tentatively.

"Yes, Harry, Professor Lupin is upset. Understandable after you chose to repay his kindness with deceit and abused his good will. What seems to have hurt him most is that you didn't think that you could be open with him."

Harry groaned inwardly. If Dumbledore knew that Lupin was upset, he must truly be angry. Would he ever speak to him again?

"He's going to need some time, Harry."

Lupin probably knew the full extent of what he had done by now which probably accounted for his staying away from the hospital wing. "He hasn't even been in to see me," Harry said sadly.

"At the moment, at least, he is preoccupied," Dumbledore said. "Miss Tonks was injured in the raid on Azkaban. She's in St. Mungo's."

Speechless, Harry gaped at Dumbledore.

"Yes, well," he murmured. "These are troubled times for all of us. You'll remember what we talked about, Harry." With a nod he was gone.

The actual raid on Azkaban had been nothing short of disastrous, decimating the ranks of the Aurors. Taking full advantage of their dwindling numbers, Voldemort's Death Eaters had embarked on a reign of destruction and violence leaving the citizens terrified and the remaining Aurors stretched beyond their capacity. Things had become so desperate that Percy Weasley was forced to make a Ministerial broadcast admitting that they had suffered a terrible defeat and recruiting wizards for a new defense league.

When classes resumed the following week there was a marked difference. Many students had simply not returned and, with communications so convoluted, no one knew if they had become victims of Voldemort. As always, rumors abounded. Some swore that they had seen Ravenclaw Cho Chang as an Inferi warrior but she turned up back at school a week later with her face scarred by Dragon Pox. The truth was that many of the older students had dropped out to fight for the ministry. Many other students had simply not been permitted to leave their families. It was the same with the teachers. While most had returned, some, especially the younger ones, had not.

"Everything's different now," Ron commented one evening at dinner. "Everyone's …"

"Sacred," Hermione supplied.

It was true. Harry had mistakenly believed that he was the only one who had changed over break. He now knew that everyone and everything had changed.

"Not Malfoy," Ron muttered. "Look at him strutting about."

"Things do look bad now," Harry said. "But when Voldemort is finally defeated, the Malfoys will be singing a different tune."

Hermione seemed to have stopped listening to their conversation and suddenly called across the hall. "Malfoy, do you want to have some dessert with us?"

"What are you doing?" Harry hissed.

Ron shook his head in disgust. The rest of the hall turned to stare in disbelief.

"I'm not going to eat with the likes of you," Malfoy called back with pronounced disdain. A dozen Slytherans rolled with laughter.

If Hermione was insulted, she didn't show it. "Some other time perhaps. "Maybe your friends would like to join us. Slytherans are always welcome at the Gryffindor table."

The other Gryffindors glowered at her but Hermione took no notice and continued eating serenely. It was her newest cause. SPEW was apparently gone for the duration, newly replaced by a quest for House Unity: a cause which Hermione went after as doggedly as her other endeavors, never passing up an opportunity to extend good will to the Slytherans.

"You're wasting your time," Ron said and excused himself from the table. "I'm expecting an owl from Percy."

Ron was apparently taking his assignment from the Order very seriously. There was an endless stream of communication between Hogwarts and the ministry. In fact, between his classes and keeping tabs on Percy he had little time for much else."

"It's odd, isn't it?" Hermione mused. "He used to get an owl from Percy once a week and meet with McGonagall for hours. Now he gets them all the time and he hardly ever reports to her."

Harry dismissed her. "I think he's having a difficult time with everything. What with Percy being so unpopular and our elected officials being assassinated right and left. Besides with the press scrutinizing his every move, what can he have to tell McGonagall that she can't read in the Prophet?"

"Everything's awful now. Did you ever think we'd see the day where we couldn't even hold elections? All those people killed just trying to cast a vote. Now the Minister's just appointing people and if they're any good they'll probably be killed as well."

In spite of the upheaval in the outside world, or possibly because of it, routines at Hogwarts were kept as normal as possible. Harry and Ginny still took Occlumency with Snape, although it was less stressful now. Snape seemed almost to have lost his nerve and rarely pushed very far into the boy's mind. On the occasions that he did so, Ginny always saw exactly what Snape saw, which Harry now found intriguing rather than disturbing.

Weekly meeting continued with Lupin but they too were different. Lupin seemed more businesslike, bringing up topics such as the Prophecy, which he had avoided before. He was cordial but seemed to keep Harry at arm's length. It was devastating to Harry to think that he had irreparably damaged his relationship with his father's last friend.

One thing that they were glad had not changed was Hogsmeade weekends and one chilly Saturday they found themselves on the path to the village. They nearly collided with Viktor Krum who was walking back to the castle with his head down muttering to himself.

"Oye!" cried Ron. "Watch where you're going!"

Viktor started. "My apologies." He looked exhausted.

When the students had first returned Harry had made a concerted effort to avoid Viktor Krum who was fresh back from Bulgaria. Harry had no desire to field fifty questions nor did he feel up to an in depth discussion of Quiddich techniques. However, it soon became apparent that Krum did not have time to do any of these things. He even stopped wandering the Quiddich pitch. With the current teacher shortage he was forced to cover first year classes which were apparently not going well. In addition, he and Hermione were working even harder with Grawp. They now hoped he could be trained as Hagrid's assistant.

"Why don't you stop and have a drink with us?" Hermione offered.

Krum eyed her with the slightest trace of a smile but declined citing his many duties.

They all said goodbye but Ron was clearly nettled. "What do you mean inviting him? He grumbled as soon as Krum was out of earshot.

"Because it was the right thing to do," Hermione answered. "Look at him – he's run off his feet with all the extra duties he's got now and he spent his holiday at Durmstrang so he barely had any break at all."

"He shouldn't even be back," Ron retorted. "He's young and strong – he should be fighting for the Ministry."

"Not that it's any of your business, Ron, but he feels obligated to Dumbledore. After all, Dumbledore gave him a chance when everyone else wrote him off because of his background. He would like to fight but he's needed here."

"By all means," came a voice from behind. "Society is crumbling around us but let's be sure we have a Quiddich trainer."

All three spun round to find Luna Lovegood with her school trunk in hand. Seeing her there, Harry suddenly realized that she was one of the students that had not returned.

"Where've you been?" he asked taking a long look at the girl. She was definitely thinner and looked a lot less loony. Her hair was messy but hung straight to her shoulders. Gone was the radish earrings and butterbeer necklace. All in all, she looked older and much more serious.

"I've dropped out of school."

They were shocked. Luna was a year behind them.

"My father – well we're kind of in hiding or will be. His work."

Ron was mystified. "The Quibbler? You're going into hiding because of the Quibbler?"

Luna made no answer and there was silence until Hermione spoke.

"It's the resistance," she whispered with wide eyes. "Your father's involved in the civilian resistance."

Luna nodded and Hermione put an arm around her. "Oh, Luna, that's so dangerous. Everyone's after them: the Ministry and Voldemort."

"It has to be done," Luna avowed. "The Ministry's not doing anything real."

Harry stole a glance at Ron who reddened.

"It's people like you and me who'll make the difference." She handed Harry a paper. "This is the last issue of the Quibbler. It will be out tomorrow but I thought you might like an advance copy."

"Thanks, Luna."

She started back down the path but dropped back to Ron who stared at her as if she were mad and slightly dangerous.

"Ronald," she said emotionally and grabbed his forearms. She stared intently into his eyes. "You won't forget that night in the Department of Mysteries, will you? Or what's important?"

"Err …"

Leaning in, Luna kissed the stammering Ron full on the lips. As Harry and Hermione watched with amusement, he colored up to the roots of his hair.

Smiling sadly, Luna winked at Harry and disappeared with a crack like a whip.

"She's disapparated!" Harry exclaimed. "She'll be in so much trouble."

Hermione shook her head. "No one cares about that now. Things like that don't matter anymore. Don't you two understand? Nothing will ever be the same again!"


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33

Later that night Harry propped himself up on his pillows to read the last issue of the Quibbler. Evidently the paper had taken quite a turn since the last issue Harry had read featuring the Crumple- Horned Snorkack of Sweden. This issue was devoted to denouncing the Ministry and their mishandling of the current war. It also called on all citizens to take up arms against You Know Who and his followers at any cost. Things had reached crisis point and with the current administration unable or unwilling to stop You Know Who it fell on the shoulders of every good person to step up and do the right thing.

It was not an easy article to read. The Ministry stood accused of misleading the public, filling their ranks with Death Eater sympathizers and arresting the civilian resistance, which had managed to foil significantly more Death Eater attacks than Ministry forces had. If true, and Harry believed that it was for whoever had written this had certainly put them selves in danger of being arrested by the Ministry as a vigilante or killed by Voldemort's forces as a threat, the article was certainly an eye-opener, disheartening and disturbing.

What troubled Harry most, however, was the mention of the Azkaban raid which was cited as one of the most costly Ministry mistakes to date. The Quibbler believed that word of the raid had been leaked. It was leaked, Harry thought, his stomach tightening, by Dumbledore to save me. The thought haunted him daily since the toll of the attack had been made known to him. He should not have done it, Harry thought. He should not have sacrificed all those lives for mine. Dumbledore's affection for Harry had clouded his judgment and there was no way to reverse it now. The only real reparation Harry could possibly make was to take up his burden and vanquish Voldemort for good.

A sudden thought struck Harry. Was that Dumbledore's intention all along? Had he knowingly sent those Aurors to their deaths because he believed that Harry was truly the only one with the power to defeat Voldemort? It was a chilling thought but, before Harry could fully consider it, his eyes were drawn to a hand written note in the corner of the Quibbler.

It was from Luna. Apparently she had slipped him the newspaper to give him a means of contacting her in case of need.

"Use the D.A. galleon," she had written. "Enter the numbers 1313 and I shall know that you need me." Harry smiled thinking back to his days in the D.A. but the smile froze on his face, for a little lower in red ink was written, "You can't trust your friend."

Harry gasped and his heart leapt into his throat. It's just Loony Lovegood he tried to tell himself but the Luna he had seen earlier made him fear that she knew something that he did not. Who did she mean? Maybe she was referring to Ron. After all, she had acted quite strangely around him this afternoon. Plus, she must know that Ron was involved with the Ministry. Luna did not know, however, that the Order had actually sent Ron to the Ministry. He started to relax. But wait! Hadn't Hermione said that Ron wasn't reporting to McGonagall anymore? Harry's head swam.

"Something wrong?" Ron called over from his bed.

Oh, no! Harry had been staring at him. He tried to think up a response.

"Studying for Potions? I heard you were struggling a bit."

"Yes," Harry replied with relief. "I am having trouble. It's awfully difficult."

Ron nodded and Harry thought back to the beginning of the year when Ron had been upset to be excluded from the NEWT level class.

"Listen, Ron, I'm sorry about the class. I wish you were taking it too."

Shrugging, Ron popped a chocolate frog into his mouth. "It doesn't matter. I don't want to be an Auror anymore anyway. That's pretty much a death sentence these days isn't it? Well, not for you, of course," he added hastily. "You're Harry Potter. You'll be fine. Me, I'm more leadership material. Everyone at the Ministry says so. In fact, I may not be back next year. Percy says I could be a real help to him."

This was news to Harry but it did not cause him to doubt Ron's allegiance in any way. There was only one person he could that Luna might be referring to – Ginny.

Harry and Ginny had started dating after Christmas and were now pretty close. Because of their positions on the winning Quiddich team and Ginny's overall popularity, they had immediately become the golden couple of the school. Luna must know they were dating. Did she disapprove? Did she know about Ginny's penchant for brewing and taking her own potions? Did she suspect know that Voldemort had permanently altered her mind?

Harry knew all these things but he did not care. Nothing made him happier than spending his free time with her. Ginny made him feel confident, as if he could accomplish anything. With her alone he could speak about his struggles with Lord Voldemort and the temptation to tap into the powers that he had given Harry. Ginny could understand because she was in the same position. She was always supportive and non-judgmental. Together they made quite a team.

With no real answer presenting itself, Harry eventually stopped obsessing about Luna's note. When he encountered Ginny studying a week later all he could think of was that History of Magic was the only subject he ever saw her crack a book for.

"What's Bin's got you doing? He asked.

"Half-Blood Prince, fall of the monarchy," she yawned. "Dull as can be. You look tired."

"Yeah. I had an odd dream last night Snape was in it."

Ginny's eyes twinkled. "Too much Occlumency."

Harry shook his head. He related it as best he could. It was a snippet of a scene but he saw it as vividly as if he were watching a movie. It was a gray, rainy day in Hogsmeade and the train was waiting at the station. A teenaged Lupin was awkwardly assisting a young lady onto the train. The young lady turned out to be Aunt Petunia and she was more than a little upset. With tears streaming down her face, she kept looking past Lupin towards the town. Lupin for his part looked as if this was the last place he wanted to be. Oddest of all, though, was Severus Snape watching the scene sourly, Half hidden by the crowd.

"I had the same dream!" Ginny cried excitedly.

Harry was not surprised. The pair had been sharing dreams for a couple of weeks now. Part of him knew that it was because of the connection they both shared stemming from Lord Voldemort's possession of them but another part of him romanticized it as though they were kindred spirits meant to be together even in their dreams.

"I didn't realize that was your aunt. That actually took place you know. I saw the same flash once in Snape's mind during Occlumency."

Why on earth would Snape remember that? Harry wondered. And what was his aunt so upset about? Was this when she had fallen out with his mother?

Glancing at his watch, Harry remembered that he had an appointment. "I've got to go, Ginny. I have to meet up with Dumbledore."

Ginny looked at him quizzically.

"He's been meeting with me occasionally," Harry explained. "I don't think he trusts me."

The girl rose to follow him. "Once he sees you're not turning into a Dark Wizard, he'll relax a bit."

Harry hoped so. All of these meeting with Dumbledore, Snape and Lupin were cutting into his free time. Right now, for instance, he would rather be with Ginny but he had to prove to Dumbledore that he was serious about making changes.

Hand in hand the pair started to the Headmaster's office. Ginny was teasing him about the last Quiddich practice and he was laughing. Suddenly she stopped short and began looking around.

"Ginny?"

"I thought I heard something," she murmured stepping forward.

"Are you alright?" he asked for she had let go of his hand and was twisting her fingers nervously.

"Sure," she replied distractedly but the closer they got to Dumbledore's office the more agitated she became, finally grabbing his arm and refusing to go on.

Just then the staircase opened and Percy Weasley stormed out flanked by two Ministry officials. He was obviously irritated at Dumbledore and was telling his assistant so when he spied them.

"Harry Potter!" he called heartily, striding over and pumping his hand. "What a pleasant surprise!"

"Er, hi, Percy, Minister," Harry stammered.

"Now then I'm glad I ran into you, Harry. I just want you to know that the Ministry is working around the clock to keep everyone safe. We are getting ideas from all of the best minds so as to formulate an effective plan to keep our good people out of peril."

"Good," said Harry rather lamely. Before he could add anything else, Percy and his two assistants tipped their hats and headed down the corridor.

Turning to get Ginny's reaction, Harry suddenly realized that the girl was gone.

"Ginny?" he called.

No answer. Retracing his steps, he found Ginny huddled on the stone floor. She was shaking and breathing in great gasps.

"Ginny? What's wrong?" he cried in alarm.

She gave no answer.

"Let's get you to the hospital wing," he said and tried to pull her up. She resisted.

Uncertain what to do, Harry scanned the hallways. He heard brisk footsteps in the corridor. It was Lupin.

"Professor," he called with relief.

"Harry! What are you dong? You were supposed to meet with Dumbldore twenty-five minutes ago."

Taken aback by Lupin's tone, Harry glanced at Ginny who was still panting and shaking on the floor. He would have thought the reason for the delay was obvious.

Lupin knelt by Ginny but kept his focus on Harry.

"I'm sorry, sir. She just took ill."

"It is important that you meet with Dumbledore. I'm certain he's explained this to you. You should have called for assistance with Miss Weasley."

Harry could not believe that Lupin was giving him such a hard time. He felt certain that these were extenuating circumstances and that Dumbledore would find them so.

"There was no one here when she took sick, Professor. I thought I could manage on my own." He tried to explain the situation more fully but Lupin interrupted him.

"Regardless, Harry, if you needed help you should have asked for it!" Lupin's tone was sharp and accusatory.

Blinking, Harry stared wordlessly at his teacher.

"You go on to the Headmaster's office. I'll take care of Ginny."

As Harry turned to go he heard Lupin sigh. Then he turned his attention to Ginny.

"Take it easy, Ginny. Are you in pain?"

Ginny burst into tears. "I don't feel well at all, Professor. I took this potion to get rid of freckles and now I feel terrible."

"When are you girls going to learn?" he exclaimed in exasperation. "Here, let me help you."

Harry doubted that Ginny was being truthful but at least Lupin would be able to get her to the hospital wing. She was still there when Harry returned. Bored, he began rummaging through his trunk. It was then that he uncovered the Dark Arts book which had been slipped into his bag months ago. Glancing around the dormitory, Harry ascertained that he was alone and opened it.

Strictly speaking Harry knew that he should not even be looking at it but he was curious and felt certain no harm would come of a quick glance. Leafing through it, Harry quickly gleaned that it was not a practical guide but more of a historical text. Assured that it was relatively innocuous, he looked through the table of contents and saw that chapter 23 was circled with the initials V.K. It was titled "Resurrection and Reanimation."

Harry gasped and eagerly turned the pages. Maybe this book could tell him how to bring back Sirius or even his parents. Lupin had said that resurrection was not possible but this author disagreed. Unfortunately the text was not very illuminating as it dealt with the moral question of whether or not such magic should even be attempted. It did, however, make reference to a specific text where the spell could likely be found. Harry hastily jotted down the Latin title and headed for the library.

Although the library was buzzing with pupils, the restricted section, where Harry knew such a dark book would be, was relatively empty. Relieved, Harry began to scan the titles hopefully. Although he knew little about the magic involved with a resurrection spell, on some level he felt that he could reverse all of the bad things that had happened recently if he could just bring Sirius back.

Harry was confident that he had the ability to do so. Voldemort had transferred powers to Harry that he now knew how to tap. Ultimately he believed that this power could be used to defeat Lord Voldemort and no matter how difficult the reanimation spell would prove to be, Harry was certain that he could perform it. The only thing standing between Harry and his godfather was this one book. He was so adsorbed in his search that he did not notice Lupin come around the corner.

"I'm glad to see you working on your Defense Against the Dark Arts," he said pleasantly in contrast to his earlier tone.

Jumping a good three inches, Harry surveyed his mentor with dismay.

Lupin frowned slightly. "Are you looking for a specific book?"

Harry did not know what to say. He had vowed not to lie to Lupin again but to admit the truth could mean expulsion, his wand. He stammered out something about a paper and Lupin's frown grew more pronounced. He knew something was afoot. Harry swallowed hard.

"Couldn't you find what you were looking for?"

"No, sir," Harry replied casually, backing away from Lupin.

"Well, if you can't find it here, maybe I have it in my library." Lupin's tone was pleasant but Harry noted an edge to his voice and before the boy could do anything Lupin had snatched the scrap of paper out of his hand.

As Lupin read the title, the color drained from his face. He looked as gray as his hair but his eyes hardened like two small stones. He seemed to be wavering, unable to decided whether to be anguished or just plain angry. Anger won out.

"I certainly do not have this book in my possession!" he hissed under his breath. "My office now!" With a flash of his wand, the paper disintegrated.

When they had reached his office, Lupin slammed the door and immediately rounded on Harry.

"A paper indeed! You don't think I know what you're up to? That book is notorious!"

Harry's heart leapt wildly in his chest. He had never seen Lupin quite so upset.

"I didn't mean anything by it," Harry protested. "Viktor Krum gave me a book and I just wanted to see if it was possible"

"Viktor Krum grew up in a school that teaches Dark Magic with a know Death Eater as a guardian. It is hardly surprising that he has a Dark Arts book. You, however …" Lupin was stalking about the room angrily. He left his sentence unfinished.

Suddenly whether or not he was kept on at Hogwarts seemed less important than how this discussion unraveled with Lupin.

"Sirius and my dad, they -"

"Sirius and your dad were never drawn to the Dark Arts," Lupin affirmed. "And you wouldn't have been either if … if …" He trailed off and made a defeated gesture with his hands before leaning wearily against the desk.

Harry felt his own anger rise. He was tired of Lupin tiptoeing around him as he had done for the past month. They would have this out here and now.

"If Voldemort hadn't attacked me as a baby," Harry supplied hotly. He did not add "and transferred a part of himself into me" but he meant as much and he knew from the look in Lupin's eyes that he took it as such.

There was dead silence and for a minute Harry thought he might not answer him. Although Lupin had always acknowledged a connection between him and Voldemort, he had vigorously denied that it was anything but superficial, something that could be ignored.

Finally he looked Harry square in the eyes and grudgingly admitted that "Yes, that probably was the case."

Although it was the honest answer and the answer Harry thought he wanted to hear, he found it gave him no satisfaction, only pain. If only Lupin would come over and clap him heartily on the shoulder, tell him that he was his father's son, that he had his mother's eyes.

But if Lupin knew the boy was hurting he did not show it. He went right back to the subject of reanimation.

"Don't you think that if there was anything that could have been done to change what happened to your parents that we would have done it?' he asked emotionally. "If only so that you would not have to go through all of this … " he gestured to indicate vastness, "… alone!"

Lupin threw himself into a chair and put his head in his hands, too distraught perhaps to say anything further.

Harry felt terrible for he suddenly realized why things with Lupin had become so strained. Lupin did not blame Harry for what had happened at Christmas; he blamed himself. He thought that he had let Harry down, had failed in his responsibilities to Sirius and to James. The enormity of what he had done to Lupin hit him like a sack of bricks. Worst of all, there was nothing Harry could think of to say or do that could possibly make things any better.

"I won't go looking for that spell again," he promised.

Lupin did not respond but continued to stare miserably at his desk. Considering himself dismissed, Harry made for the door. But, no. He just could not leave things like this. He desperately groped for something meaningful to say.

"Professor," he started tentatively and Lupin did look up.

"I wish things hadn't been so bad between you and my parents – before they died I mean. I just wish that you had a chance to see me as a baby before … before Voldemort got to me."

"I wish that too, Harry."


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34

"Another win for Gryffindor," Malfoy sneered as the team shuffled off the field.

"You're just jealous, Malfoy. Slytheran's chances for the cup are getting slimmer every match," Ginny shot back.

Malfoy snorted. "Some of us have more important things to do than worry about a game."

"Important things, huh?" Harry Potter scoffed. "More important than snogging Pansy Parkinson?"

The Gryffindor team erupted into laughter.

"How dare you?" Pansy squealed from behind Malfoy who immediately went for his wand.

"Problems, Malfoy?" Professor Snape called, drifting over. He always seemed to be on hand of late.

"No, sir," Malfoy muttered. He was disgusted to give Potter the last word but it would not be for long. Things at the castle were about to change. Already he had been approached by the Dark Lord's followers. All he had to do was wait for their signal and he would begin his career as a Death Eater. With one last dirty look at the Gryffindor team he stalked away with Pansy in tow.

"When's it going to be, Draco?" she whispered.

"Soon, my pet. It will be soon."

Winter was drawing to a close when the signal finally came. One morning at breakfast an unfamiliar owl glided over the Slytheran table dropping a note at Malfoy's seat as casually as it might drop off a party invite. But this was no ordinary note and Draco knew as he unsealed it with trembling hands that his life would never be the same again. There were no words on the page only a small figure – the mark of the snake. His time had come.

Draco knew who he would go after – the Mudblood who had bested him in every subject since first year, Potter's little pal, the Gryffindor prefect.

"Granger, meet me tonight in Hogsmeade after curfew."

"Yeah, right, Malfoy," Hermione scoffed. "So you can report me to McGonagall."

"Please, it's important." He lowered his voice to a whisper and glanced anxiously around him. "Look, Granger, I'm only coming to you because you've been preaching about House unity all term. I want to switch sides. I don't want to end up a Death Eater like my father."

Hermione chewed her lip nervously as she considered what he said. "If that's the case, you had better go to Dumbledore."

It was working! Malfoy could scarcely believe it could be easy. Why it was like child's play. He quickly whipped up some tears.

"If my father finds out he'll kill me! I shouldn't even be telling you this. Forget it. Pretend I never said anything." He turned away.

"Malfoy, wait!" Hermione cried. "I didn't know you were in such trouble. I don't know what I can do but I'll meet you tonight in the Shrieking Shack. You can trust me."

"You won't tell anyone? You'll come alone?"

The girl agreed. "Be careful," she warned.

Be careful! Malfoy was luring her to her death and she was telling him to be careful. The whole thing was so ludicrous he wanted to laugh.

It was not difficult for him to slip out the secret passageway to the Shrieking Shack and he doubted Hermione would have any trouble either. After all, she, Potter and Weasley had spent the better part of their school careers being where they were not supposed to be. She did not disappoint. When Malfoy entered the shack he found her leaning against a boarded up window looking considerably flushed. Whether this was from nerves or cold, Draco could not say but he took a long look at her before he spoke. She was not pretty by conventional standards but there was a softness in her eyes, which made her suddenly seem all too human.

"Did anyone see you?" he demanded.

"No," she replied shaking her head. "Wait a minute … Viktor but he doesn't know I've left the castle."

Draco nodded unconcerned.

"I've been thinking, Malfoy," she whispered urgently.

Why whisper? Draco thought with a smirk. No one could hear her now even if she screamed.

"If you're not comfortable going to Dumbledore, maybe you could try Snape."

"Snape?"

"I know you think he's a Death Eater but he changed sides ages ago. His loyalty is to Dumbledore alone now," she said earnestly.

Malfoy shook his head. "You stupid girl! He's got you all fooled. His loyalty is to the Dark Lord."

Hermione remained convinced that she was right and started reeling off examples of Snape's loyalty to Dumbledore. She became quite animated and her gloved hands moved quickly through the air.

"I should do it now," Draco thought. He was becoming aware of the passing time and he knew the moment had come. She did not suspect a thing.

"Expelliamos!" he cried snatching the girl's wand out of the air.

"Malfoy," she exclaimed, appearing more put out than scared. "What gives?"

"I didn't come here to talk about switching sides," he sneered.

They stared at each other and Hermione made a break for the door.

"Get back!" he cried his voice shaking inexplicably. He pointed his wand at her chest and she stepped resignedly away from the door.

"Malfoy, whatever you're playing at it's not going to work. You'll be expelled when I tell them what you've done."

'You won't be telling anyone anything. You'll be dead. That's why I brought you here, you miserable Mudblood – to kill you!" His voice was high pitched so much so that he barely recognized it.

Hermione's face contorted with fear and she stumbled backward. She looked like a trapped animal.

"You're a Death Eater!"

"Not yet. This will be my initiation. Take down a Mudblood at Hogwarts – right under Dumbledore's nose. Those are my orders. Then send up the Dark Mark, a one-way ticket into the dark Lord's inner circle, right next to my dad!"

"Don't do this, Malfoy. Once you join the Death Eaters there's no turning back."

"You think I don't know that?" Malfoy screamed back. "My decision is made. It was made for me before I was born." His wand trembled violently.

Two identical tears slid down the girl's face. "Please don't do this, Draco." She said no more but threw her hands up in front of her eyes.

It was the only time Draco had seen her at a loss for words. She was scared and fragile-looking.

He tried to steady himself. One curse and he would be a Death Eater- powerful, feared and respected, just like his father.

He tightened his grasp on his wand. Avada Kedavra – they said it killed in an instant but how long was an instant if it was your last? His glance lingered on Hermione Granger hunched up by the wall. Suddenly he knew that he could not do it, not like this, not in cold blood. Raising his wand he caught a glimpse of sheer terror in the girl's eyes.

"Obliviate!" he cried and her eyes rolled dully back. She sank to the floor.

Draco ran out of the shack. He sprinted down a deserted lane as his heart pumped wildly. He had failed the Dark Lord. He would surely be killed. Did they already know? Were they coming to look for him? His mind reeled as he ran aimlessly out of town. Finally, he collapsed breathlessly against a lamppost. Calming slightly, he quickly realized that he had no chance out here in the open. The castle could lend him temporary protection at least. Retracing his steps back into the Shrieking Shack, he stepped over Hermione who was sitting cross-legged on the floor. Her words about Severus Snape rang in his ears and with no one else to turn to he found himself panting in front of Snape's his quarters.

He pounded frantically on the door and it was opened by a furious-looking Snape hurriedly pulling a dressing gown over his bare chest.

"Malfoy, what is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

Close to hysterics, Draco began to blurt out his account of the night's events. With a quick glance up and down the corridors, Snape's hand closed on Malfoy's forearm like a band of steel and he pulled him roughly into his rooms.

"Idiot boy! You mean to speak of such matters in the open?"

"Sir, you've got to help me," Malfoy gasped and finished telling his story.

"If you wish to go into hiding, you need to seek out Albus Dumbledore," Snape responded coldly.

Draco fought to hold back tears. "I can't go into hiding. The Dark Lord will go after my family, my mother. Dumbledore can't help me – he can't speak to the Dark Lord but you, you can."

Snape's expression was impassive. He moved through the room with long strides. "You should have come to me sooner!"

"Please, sir, you're my only chance," Draco cried desperately pulling on his teacher's arm. "Please, he'll kill me!"

"No, Draco!" Snape exclaimed wrenching himself away. "I cannot help you."

Draco could no longer contain himself. He burst into sobs. Snape turned away.

"You must go to your father. Perhaps he -"

"No, he won't. His allegiance to the Dark Lord outweighs any affection he has towards his son," Draco replied bitterly.

Snape turned slowly on his heel and stared at the boy.

Sensing a change in the man, Draco forced a calm, conspiratorial tone. "You know this to be true."

"Tell me everything," Snape commanded.

Although not convinced that Snape was agreeing to aid him, Malfoy felt a slight sense of relief. Collapsing into a nearby seat, he recollected events to the best of his ability.

"Where is the Granger girl now?"

Draco cringed. "She's still in the Shrieking Shack but I altered her memory."

"Your feeble attempt at an Obliviate charm will not be enough to erase this from her mind. I shall have to perform one myself, if she hasn't frozen to death by then." Snape resumed his striding throughout the room. "You are confident that you were not seen?"

"Granger said something about running across Krum but -"

Snape folded his arms tightly across his chest. He did not look pleased to receive this news but Malfoy could not imagine why. Krum was clearly a threat to no one, except perhaps unsuspecting students who stumbled onto the Quiddich pitch during his off period.

"You father will have told you that Karkarov is back in the Dark Lord's employ?"

Draco nodded dumbly.

"That fact casts suspicion, then, on Krum," Snape continued. "We cannot determine how much sway one has over the other and what, if any, information passes between the two."

"Can you not alter his memory?"

Snape shook his head. "If he is in contact with Karkarov, such a charm would almost certainly be detected. As it stands now, I dare not watch him too closely for fear that it will arouse suspicion."

Draco saw immediately what needed to be done. "I can find out. No one will suspect a thing if I cozy up to Krum. I can determine if he is loyal to Karkarov and report back to you."

"No, Draco. That is a dangerous game. If Karkarov finds out, your loyalty will come into question – your actions tonight for instance. You'll be outed as a traitor to the Dark Lord and I will not be able to protect you."

"What other option do I have? I refuse to flee and I cannot live openly in defiance of the Dark Lord."

Snape did not contradict him. "Are you at all prepared for what lies ahead? What such a choice will mean?"

"I am," Draco replied unblinkingly. "If you will help me."

"No, you are not. You are sixteen. You cannot possibly imagine the implications of taking up such a life. Still, when one's parents have chosen to follow the Dark Lord, such choices, if indeed you can call them that, are often presented early." Although the man's expression was stony, Malfoy could detect a hint of bitterness in Snape's tone and, for the first time, Draco wondered about the man's past. What choices had Snape had to make? Had he had anyone to help him?

He met the boy's eyes briefly. "I shall attempt to protect you, Draco as well as I am able."

Without further comment, he pulled off his dressing gown and reached for a shirt, which was draped over a nearby chair. For a moment the mark on his arm was laid bare and Snape did not attempt to conceal it. Malfoy stared at it, mesmerized. Of course, he had always known that Snape had taken the Dark Mark but he had never glimpsed it. A million unanswerable questions swirled in his head. Which side was Snape really on and what was his motivation in agreeing to aid him? Would he, Draco, eventually come to regret his panicked plea for assistance? I had no choice, he reminded himself.

"You must fetch Miss Granger and wait for me in the dungeons. Do not be seen," Snape commanded as he fastened his black robes.

"You are going to see – him?" Malfoy asked in awe. Whatever else Snape was, he was taking a tremendous risk in protecting the boy.

"One of us must explain that your failure to kill the Mudblood Granger is not a reflection of your loyalty to the Dark Lord." He regarded the teenager sourly. "You, Draco, have neither the ability or the nerve to do so." Gliding over to the door, he grasped the handle.

Malfoy did not know what to say. He knew that Snape was risking his very life to clean up his, Draco's, mess.

"Good luck, sir," he said feebly. He was keenly aware of how inadequate his words were but something in his tone must have given Snape some inkling to his thoughts because he turned back to face the boy.

"If I do not return by 3:30 – 3:30 exactly – you must get Granger and go to the Headmaster's office. Tell Dumbledore exactly what you have told me. Omit nothing especially the part about Viktor Krum."

Draco nodded vigorously.

"Remember. Three thirty. No earlier – no later."

Snape's black eyes glinted and he swept bat-like out of his chambers.


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35

Snape expected to find the Dark Lord alone, guarded perhaps by Wormtail, but to his surprise the room was occupied by two women. One of the women stood in front of Lord Voldemort with her back to the entrance. She was dressed in a long, loose garment of ivory. The other wore a robe and a mask. She was tall and willowy but her stiff posture signaled her displeasure.

"Don't be sulky," Voldemort chastised her. "I know what you have been doing and am well pleased with you. One day you, too, will be rewarded."

It was Claudia and the fact that her master was praising her did nothing to improve Snape's mood.

"Severus," hissed Lord Voldemort. "The hour is late and you have no mask."

"Forgive me, my Lord," Snape said striding forward to kiss his master's robes. "Time was of the essence."

Voldemort stopped him with a gesture. "No matter. It is good that you have come. Behold the true power of the Dark Lord."

The woman in front of him turned and Snape's eyes widened. It was Bellatrix Lestrange but every line from her face had disappeared. Her skin was white and smooth and her lips were blood red. Voldemort ran a long, boney hand through her black hair as if to check out his handiwork.

As jaded as her was, Severus knew why so many men had wanted her. She was ravishing. Voldemort had restored her to her former beauty, turning back the clock so that she appeared just as she had nearly twenty years ago.

She strutted over to Snape and offered him her hand. "Bellatrix," he murmured pressing it to his lips. It was an elegant, formal gesture and he had done the same on her wedding day. Did she remember?

Glancing up, he noticed the Dark Lord's eye fixed intently upon him. Rumors had abounded in the past that he, Severus, was jealous of Rudulfus and that his surly disposition at the Lestrange wedding was the result of it but there had been no truth in it. Snape's bad temper stemmed from the knowledge of another wedding which was taking place that day – one that he did wish was not going to happen.

"I had to stop Malfoy's initiation," he blurted out, suddenly remembering his errand. "He was very nearly caught red-handed."

"Subtlety, apparently, does not run in the family," Voldemort said pointedly in Bellatrix's direction. She laughed haughtily.

He dismissed the women and Snape presented him with the wand Draco had taken from Hermione Granger.

"It is well that I found him when I did. He had his wand against the Mudblood's throat and half the staff at Hogwarts was out looking for the pair."

"I can always rely on you, Severus. I have important tasks for the newest member of our family and it wouldn't do to have him out of Hogwarts."

The Dark Lord's praise only deepened Snape's fears. The initiation had not been a legacy formality. Draco was meant to be a fully functioning Death Eater. How much time could Severus buy him?

"Still, I suppose young Draco will have to wait another day to receive his Dark Mark."

Although he had expected this response, Snape was not sure how to deflect it. He clenched his hands almost imperceptibly as he lamented his lack of preparation for this meeting.

"My Lord, I am not certain that would be prudent. I was able to cover for him once but he'll be under a great deal of scrutiny. As it stands now the entire castle is under extra security this term - Dumbledore's response to everything that happened over Christmas break."

The Dark Lord's mood shifted and he glared down suspiciously at Snape. "I don't understand that, Severus. I received a report from Malfoy last week. He informed me that he encountered no difficulties."

Snape's stomach churned. Exactly how far had Draco gotten himself involved with the Dark Lord and why had he neglected to mention it to Snape? Operating under a substantial lack of information, he felt the conversation begin to spin out of control.

"Spying is one thing," he told Lord Voldemort. "But committing a murder under everyone's nose? Why risk it? Why not initiate him when school is out of session for the summer?"

Voldemort's red eyes blazed. 'You dare to tell me when best to initiate my children, Snape? I don't recall this kind of hesitation when it was your turn!"

"My Lord, I am only thinking of your other projects at Hogwarts. Surely it's unwise to call attention to our presence there." Snape's mouth was dry. He knew that Voldemort did not believe him and was only fishing for Snape's real motivation. If he continued on this track, he was going to get them both killed. Desperately, he searched his mind for a new tactic.

"The artifact you've been searching for in the forest is indeed what you seek."

The air became instantly electric. Voldemort leaned forward hungrily. 'What?" he gasped.

"A Sorcerer's stone. Dumbledore's got one in the forest."

"He's told you this?" Voldemort asked incredulously.

"He did not need to. I saw him stumble into the forest weak and feeble only to return the next day rejuvenated."

"I knew it!" Voldemort exclaimed. "His hypocrisy is without limits. Here he's been preaching about the nobility of death all the while making certain that he'll never leave this earth."

Snape said nothing, sickened to have betrayed Dumbledore in this way. He could only hope that the security measures would be enough to prevent the Dark Lord from obtaining the stone.

'This is excellent news. Not only do I gain the means of achieving immortality but I simultaneously sentence my rival to increasing infirmity and death. Just as he slips into the void I shall take my place as supreme ruler of all."

"You are close then, Master?" Severus asked as calmly as he could.

"Oh, yes, Severus, I am close." He began to laugh maniacally. "The old fool is far too arrogant to imagine just how close I am."

Severus dearly wished that he could start this conversation over and take back everything that he had said. It was never his intention to risk everything for Draco Malfoy – not when so many other lives were at stake.

'Your instincts are correct, Severus. We must put all of our resources into the stone. Malfoy's initiation can wait until it's safer."

More than a little rattled, Snape made his way out. He feared that he had acted too hastily in coming to Malfoy's aid and, in doing so, had been forced to betray Dumbledore's secret to keep his cover. He felt as if he were balancing on a thin wire. A slight misstep would spell disaster.

The very last person he wanted to see was the treacherous Death Eater Claudia but she clearly had been waiting for him.

"The Dark Lord's favorite son," she called. "Certainly, Severus, you were not going to depart without a fond farewell to me."

Snape regarded her disdainfully. "If you're worried about Draco Malfoy, don't be. He can look after himself."

Claudia laughed softly. "Frankly the exploits of a handful of teenagers are of no interest to me whatsoever."

"You ought to be interested in Harry Potter," he replied silkily. 'Many believe that he possesses the power to bring down the Dark Lord for good. What is it that the Daily Prophet calls him? The Chosen One?"

"I think it's far more likely that Potter will join forces with the Dark Lord. I hear he's taken to killing house elves for sport. In fact, I've heard rumors that he's gotten too dark for Dumbledore. Heard the old man wanted to send him packing."

Severus was dumbfounded. How on earth was she getting all this information? Did she also know that Snape had interceded on Potter's behalf?

"What you say is indeed true. In fact, it was I who recommended he stay on at Hogwarts so that I could continue to apprentice him in the Dark Arts."

The woman nodded but it was clear that this was just idle talk to segue into her true agenda which she then sprang on Snape.

"Bellatrix Lestrange gets all the glory" She ranted. "I am tired of living in her shadow. I want her killed!"

Snape openly laughed at her. "Good luck. Old Mad Eye Moody has an entire list of Aurors who have died in that very pursuit."

She was unfazed.

"Must I remind you that it is high treason to raise your wand against a fellow death Eater? Surely you don't want to harm your sister." His tone dripped with irony.

"Sister? Is that how you think of me, Severus?"

Snape did not respond. It was clearly a loaded question.

"It's just that I know of a few things that you've done that don't seem so fraternal."

Enough! Snape was tired of this game. He decided to end it once and for all.

"Your ambition will be your ruin, woman. I shall tell the Dark Lord of your treachery – of your plans for Bellatrix Lestrange."

"You mean your plans for her." She leaned in and whispered in his ear and Snape felt a cold shiver pass through his body. "You're going to kill her."

He opened his mouth to protest but she silenced him.

"Now, now, Severus. We both know the real reason Dumbledore trusts you and we wouldn't want that to slip out to our Master. But if you refuse me this small favor, I can guarantee that the truth will out."

Snape stared at her, speechless.

"Did you really think you could escape the past?" she asked in the most sincere tone Snape had ever heard her use.

"I don't – you don't know what you're talking about," he sputtered lunging toward her. She stepped smartly aside.

"Also know that the incriminating evidence will reveal itself in the Dark Lord's quarters should I happen to meet an untimely death. I expect you'll want to take especially good care of me. Won't you, brother dear?"

Snape's heart pounded in his chest. He felt trapped. Half a dozen scenarios played out in his mind each with more disastrous endings. It was as if she were forcing his hand to cut his own throat. He thrust himself forward and grabbed her mask. To his great surprise she allowed him to rip it off, revealing a face which was etched into his memory, though he never expected to see it in this life again. His hand froze in mid-air while his face twisted in shock. All of the oxygen seemed to have been sucked from the room and Severus stumbled blindly backwards.

"Claudia!" he gasped. "Claudia Moody?" His voice trembled. "How can this be? I …"

But at this most vital test, Severus Snape's power of speech failed him and Claudia smiled. It was a truly, twisted smile and it seemed to fill the room even after she had disapparated.


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36

He hated now to think of it but, in truth, he could not remember their names, if indeed he had ever known them, or even how many there had been – there had been that many. What Severus Snape did recall most vividly, what haunted him still, was the look in their eyes just before he killed them. They had been fearful, pleading and sometimes they had been accusing like Claudia's just were. They were the ones he could never forget, the ones that tormented him still.

He fisted up his hands in front of his eyes. Was this to be his fate? Were his victims now to rise from their graves? To come back through the veil and denounce him? To inflict the same agonies on him that he had inflicted on them? He had once naively believed that if he assisted in defeating Lord Voldemort he would gain some measure of peace but he knew now that he never would. Nothing he could do would wipe the slate clean.

He fled from headquarters into the cold, wet night. He did not disapparate right away. Quite simply, he was not steady enough to do so safely so Snape walked through the darkness trying to think about what had just happened, how things had unraveled, spun out of control. He knew he had to pull himself together so that he could return to Hogwarts. There was Malfoy to be dealt with and he needed to see Dumbledore. Because of the delay, it took longer than usual to return to the castle and by that time Snape was beside himself. He headed straight to his rooms.

Throwing open the door, Severus quickly surveyed the room. Hermione Granger was slumbering peacefully in a chair. She seemed to be under the influence of a sleeping draught but Draco Malfoy was wide-awake and jumped up to meet him.

Snape did not hesitate. With one fluid motion he grabbed the front of Malfoy's robes and threw him against the stone wall.

"What do you think you're playing at?" he demanded.

Malfoy's expression turned fearful and he stammered unintelligibly.

"You fail to mention the fact that you are already working for the Dark Lord. What exactly are you doing for him?"

"Nothing important, sir," he answered, rubbing his neck. "I'm just watching -"

"Who are you watching?" Snape's eyes glinted and he shook the boy roughly. "Are you watching me?"

Draco vehemently denied it. "No. It's Dumbledore he's interested in. He's got me watching who goes in and out of his office." He fumbled in his pocket and produced a crumpled slip of parchment.

After waving a wand across it, Snape was able to discern a number of names listed in Malfoy's small, neat hand. "Potter, Trelawney, Neville Longbottom, Augusta Longbottom, Minerva McGonagall, Alastor Moody. This list is useless. Students, staff members, personal friends … of what possible use can these be to the Dark Lord."

Malfoy shrugged. "I really don't know, sir."

"And you don't care either," Snape snapped. "As long as it doesn't put you in any danger. I suggest you consider where your loyalties lie. Neither side will welcome a coward."

Draco looked uneasy. "But you are going to help me, right?"

Snape fixed him with a look of disdain. "My word remains true but, if I perceive the slightest hint of treachery on your part, I shall have to act as I see fit." He gritted his teeth and added. "If you don't think that's enough of a threat, just ask your father. He'll tell you exactly what old Severus Snape is capable of!"

Malfoy shrank back looking revolted.

He does not need to ask Lucius, Snape realized. He knows what I've done. The expression on his student's face only seemed to deepen Severus' anguish. Accused again – would he ever be free?

"Get out!" he screamed. "Get out!"

Draco looked simultaneously confused and scared. "But what about Granger?"

"Just get out!"

Draco ran out of the room but Snape was in no state to deal with the complex magic needed to erase the girl's memory. His only thought was to get to Dumbledore and he, too, headed back into the corridors. He virtually screamed the password to Dumbledore's rooms and stumbled in. Thinking the slamming of the heavy oaken doors would have awakened the old wizard, he was surprised to still hear snores emanating from the bedchamber.

"Dumbledore!" Severus cried, throwing open the bed curtains. "Dumbledore!"

Albus woke immediately to the sight of a wild-eyed Severus Snape leaning over him. His hair was disheveled and pieces of leaves and twigs stuck out of it at odd angles.

"Dumbledore!" He continued to cry, even though the old wizard was clearly awake.

Dumbledore – it was always Sir or Headmaster but never his name – and never in this desperate tone. Albus' heart began to race. Something catastrophic must have happened. He leapt out of bed. "The boy – is he safe?"

"Yes, yes."

Upon taking a closer look at his colleague, Dumbledore became fearful for Snape. Were those his Death Eater robes? Had he been wearing them in the school? And why were they in such disarray?

"Severus, your mark," Dumbledore whispered, appalled, for his sleeve was rolled up past his elbow.

Snape stared down at it. "Yes, yes, I know it's there." He rubbed at it fiercely and Dumbledore saw that it was red, as if he had been rubbing it all night. "It will never come off!"

"Severus, what has happened?" Dumbledore asked fearfully as he pulled Snape's sleeve securely over his mark. "Did Voldemort send for you?"

But the distraught man had already stumbled into Dumbledore's personal study, muttering things that Albus could not understand.

"I saw her!" Snape exclaimed. "I saw her!"

"Who?"

"Claudia, Claudia Moody!"

Albus felt a cold chill. Snape was not making any sense at all. Had his work as a double agent, the work that he, Dumbledore, had put him up to, broken his mind?

"Severus, pray calm yourself," he said rather sharply. He inhaled slowly. "Take some of this draught. It will relax you. I can hardly hope to assist you in such a state."

Predictably, Snape refused the potion and continued to ramble on incoherently.

Dumbledore knitted his brows. He needed to find out what had taken place but with Severus in this condition, it seemed impossible. A tin of calming powders lay by the fireplace. If he could manage to sneak it into the flames, he was certain that Severus would be affected, allowing him to be questioned.

"At least come and sit by the fire," Dumbledore told him. "You may find it desirable to walk around in damp robes but I find it rather drafty in my nightdress."

Much too distracted to notice the old wizard throw a handful of powder into the fire or see it suddenly flash green, Snape wandered over and perched stiffly onto the end of the couch. He told a wild tale in which a Death Eater blackmailed him to kill Bellatrix Lestrange and then turned into Alastor Moody's dead wife.

Dumbledore could not make head or tails of it. "It could not have been Claudia Moody. You know very well that she is dead."

Snape fixed him with an odd look, as if trying to decide whether or not to believe the old man. Still, Albus was relieved to note that the crazed look was beginning to fade from his eyes. The drug he had put into the fireplace was starting to take effect.

"Who else could it be?"

"Someone is obviously impersonating her." He felt as if he were speaking to a young child. Snape seemed beyond all reason. "Anything else would be impossible."

"Impersonating her? To what avail?"

"To throw you off balance – to manipulate you. Evidently she's been successful."

"If that is the case, then they know. They know what happened that night." Snape's eyes darted around wildly. "If they tell the Dark Lord, it will be over for me but not before he's discovered your plans for his defeat."

"Severus," Dumbledore began slowly. "I'm not certain that this individual does know. It's beyond me to see how she could. Still, I am inclined to be cautious. As you say, there is much at risk."

"Headmaster, there is something I have not told you," Snape confessed. "This woman is the spy I warned you about before. She introduced herself to me as Claudia only I did not mention it before as I became … unsettled."

Here Albus became even more alarmed. Snape had deliberately misled him over the identity of the spy and Dumbledore knew why he had done so. It was because of Claudia Moody and what she represented – emotions that Severus Snape was incapable of dealing with. It was a double-edged sword. Feelings such as these had led the man to join Dumbledore but they were also a weakness, one which someone was clearly attempting to exploit.

"Her information is extremely accurate," Snape informed him. "She spoke about Potter's use of the Killing Curse and your desire to expel him from Hogwarts. I told no on about that discussion and the only other person in the room was Remus Lupin."

Dumbledore leaned back and put the tips of his fingers together. This was a riddle. He had certainly not spoken to anyone about it and he trusted both men implicitly. "I did have a conversation with Harry about it …"

Snape pulled a greasy tendril. "You think the Dark Lord may have combed it from his mind?"

"Possibly, possibly. Certainly the mind connection is quite strong. He may even have sensed something during Occlumency lessons with you." Dumbledore shook his head. He could only guess how the information had leaked out. "I think it's time you discontinued those lessons."

"He's far from mastering the skill."

"Undoubtedly, but, as you well know, Occlumency will have little to no effect on Voldemort's incursions into Potter's mind because of their inherent connection. They were only ever meant for appearances, for other people's peace of mind."

"I'm meant to be giving him instruction in the Dark Arts," Snape reminded him. "I need some one-on-one time with the boy."

Here Dumbledore managed a smile. "Well, give him detention, then. I daresay you can find a reason."

Finally, Snape filled him in as to the rest of the story from Draco's plea for help to Bellatrix Lestrange's youthful transformation. It was not in Snape's character to act so rashly and Dumbledore was not pleased that he had done so, for he had placed them in a very bad position.

"What on am I to do about Claudia and Bellatrix?" Snape asked anxiously.

Albus sighed deeply. "I shall have to think about that. In any case, there is nothing to be done now. I want you to return to your rooms and erase Miss Granger's memory of tonight. You must get some rest. Professor Grubbly-Plank will take your classes today and I shall put out the word that you are brewing an important solution for me. I don't want to encounter you out in the corridors."

Snape's eyes flashed fiercely as he attempted to argue the point.

"I need time," Dumbledore told him, "to formulate our best course of action and you are overwrought. Until you regain your composure, I cannot trust that you will not inadvertently compromise the Order."

Suddenly, Snape appeared quite ill. He seemed on the verge of saying something important but only inquired after the status of the stone in the forest.

Albus stared at the man. Clearly he was correct to question Snape's frame of mind. "Severus, surely these are enough concerns without adding to them. The stone is quite safe, quite well protected."

"The Dark Lord is after it."

"Yes, Severus," Dumbledore said calmly. "I've already foiled two of his attempts but, for all Voldemort knows, what's hidden in the forest is my championship wizard chess trophy. Now how much effort do you think he's going to expend to discover how many moves it took me to defeat Nicholas Flamel back in aught five?"

Snape looked morose. Evidently he did not appreciate the levity. He never did. Albus saw him for what he was, a soul in torment, and he lamented any part that he had played in making him so.

"I know why you risked your life for Draco Malfoy," he told him gently. "You wanted to spare him the kind of life you led under Voldemort."

Snape did not respond.

"That was not the act of a soulless man, Severus. Take heart."

Finally Snape retreated to his rooms, leaving Dumbledore to ponder what had happened and what should be done. In all his years with Severus Snape, he had never seen him this worked up and yet he had been in many dangerous situations. Whoever was impersonating Claudia Moody was a force to be reckoned with. What exactly did she know about Snape and how was she gathering confidential information about Harry Potter?

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by a knock at the door. Albus cringed. Now what? But it was only Dobby bringing up a tray of chocolate biscuits.

"Dobby saw your light, sir, and Dobby thought you might want refreshment – working as late as you are."

"Dobby," Dumbledore chastised gently. "I've spoken about this before. You are not required to work on your off days."

"'Tis not work, sir," Dobby declared. "'Tis an honor to serve you."

The old wizard smiled. "Ah, well, my thanks to you then," he said warmly. "But if that's the case, and you wouldn't mind, I've a bit of a craving for peppermint humbugs tonight."

"Certainly, sir," Dobby squeaked gleefully, spinning back to the door.

"One second, Dobby. That light in the far tower – is it Professor Lupin's?"

Dobby nodded vigorously. "Many nights he works straight through until morning, at least when he is well."

Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Might I ask you a small favor?"

Dobby was barely able to contain himself. Apparently, there was nothing else he'd rather do.

"Rather than let these delectable treats go to waste, why don't you take them to our hard-working Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher?"

"Twill be Dobby's pleasure, sir," he made to leave but turned back when Dumbledore continued to speak.

"You must ask him when he's going to bring that lovely Miss Tonks to tea with us. Hogwarts would like to honor her. I know he'll say she's too busy," Dumbledore clucked. "And I can understand that, truly I can – young people, you know, but Minerva …"

He leaned conspiratorially towards the house elf. "Well, Minerva's a funny old thing. And if the young lady doesn't come – well, I fear she'll take it as a snub to Hogwarts."

Dobby gasped as though appalled.

"Very well then, Dobby. You had better get these biscuits up to him while he's still burning the midnight oil."


	37. Chapter 37

Author's Note: This is a flashback chapter. Some readers may want to refer back to chapter eight which was a long time ago now.

DaReader: Thanks for your insight. I have been trying to adapt a tighter writing style, so hopefully there will be fewer passive type chapters except as needed for the plot

Chapter 37

The sun had already risen by the time Snape had erased Hermione's memory and sent her dazedly back out into the corridors. That being done he peeled off his sodden robes and collapsed into a chair where he immediately began to nod. Closing his eyes, he allowed the memories to flood over him as they had been threatening to do all night.

By seventh year Severus had begun to hang out with a group of Slytherans who were interested in Dark Magic. They were the sons and daughters of his parents' friends and many of them had already been approached by Lord Voldemort about their futures. Snape's own parents fully expected him to join the Dark Lord as well but the young man had no desire to do so. He hated Lord Voldemort for what he had done to his family and had no intention of binding himself to him as his parents had done. What was more, the Dark Lord had never actually approached Snape though he certainly had ample opportunity to do so. Severus was forced to conclude that Voldemort, like his parents, found him to be inferior and must believe that he had made a mistake in allowing him to live while his brother Sebastian was sacrificed.

Lily Evans was now Head Girl and, though Severus was determined to hate her, he still found himself drawn to her. Of course, he would never admit as much. He ignored her if they met, especially if he were with any of his Slytheran companions, but she would always smile or say hello, furrowing her brow at his choice of company. She was beautiful, kind, everything Snape was not and he could not stop thinking about her and the time they had spent together.

Why had she shown an interest in him? Why had she befriended him when no one else since Sebastian ever had? Fascinated, he began to follow her in secret. James Potter and Sirius Black were convinced that he was spying on them but he only had eyes for Lily, watching her as she strolled through Hogsmeade with her sister and Potter's gang.

Later he would return to the willow by the lake and wonder what James Potter had that he did not and why everything seemed to come so easily to him. It was in this spot on a fine spring day that he finally heard the voice he had been so longing to hear.

"Severus."

It was she. Snape's heart skipped. She was as beautiful as ever and had obviously come looking for him here where they had spent so much time last year under the very tree where he had held her in his arms and kissed her.

"Lily," he breathed and his eyes jumped eagerly to meet hers but her face was troubled and Snape's own features began to harden.

"Severus, I had to talk to you," she began earnestly. "It's that group you've been hanging around with – they're bad news."

This was not the conversation Snape was hoping to have. "I don't care much for the company you've been keeping this year either," he replied coldly. It was a reference to her relationship with James Potter. She blushed and he knew that she took it as such.

Frowning, Lily poured out a litany of suspicions about the group Snape had been spending his time with. None of it was news to Severus, including several instances of violence which had occurred over break in Bellatrix Black's home town. He kept a stony silence.

"Why are you wasting your time with them?" she exclaimed in frustration. "They're not your friends you know."

Snape tugged a greasy tendril. He knew they did not care about him any more than he cared about them. But at least with them he felt some sense of belonging, an unfamiliar but satisfying sensation.

"Because, Evans, when I'm with them I don't get jinxed every time a teacher's back is turned."

The conversation continued along this vein with Lily reaching out intent to save him from a perceived life of darkness. "I know what is in your heart," she told him more than once. "You are not like those people."

In essence, the young woman was simply unable to believe that the boy she had cried with last year could possibly contemplate a life in the service of Lord Voldemort, the man with both Sebastian's life and Snape's parents' souls on his hands.

Severus for his part remained cool and distant, keen to keep his conflicted feeling to himself. When they finally parted, he could not help but feel frustrated because there was much between them that remained unspoken. He could not know it then but it was to be the last conversation he would have with her at Hogwarts. Upon his return to the castle, he found that Horace Slughorn was looking for him. There was a message from home.

It was a summons really. His mother had contracted Dragon Pox and was gravely ill. Dying, Snape suspected. He was to come home immediately. That his parents actually wanted him home was far more surprising than the fact that his mother had become so ill. He supposed that they were trying to maintain their image as a successful, pureblood family. His mother, he noted, was being treated at home instead of the hospital. This was probably the Dark Lord's way of ensuring that she kept her silence.

Slughorn had arranged for him to depart on the morning train so he rose early and packed a case before heading down to breakfast. Usually a summons home for a family emergency would create some stir in the school but the Slytherans that he usually ate with had not even risen. Either they did not know or did not care about Snape's situation. Setting his suitcase beside him, Snape sat down to a lonely breakfast. Glancing over at the Gryffindor table, he wondered if Lily had heard what happened. Would she come over?

By the time he had finished eating, it was clear that neither Lily nor his other companions intended to see him off. Even Slughorn seemed to be having a lie-in as he was absent from the Great Hall. Grabbing up his case, he headed down the path away from the castle to the train which would take him back to the home he despised.

He was halfway down the path when he heard someone call his name. Turning, he saw his Head of House panting and hurrying to catch up.

"Severus, of course I intended on coming to the station with you. I'm sorry if I'm a bit late," he panted. "I'm just not a morning person."

Snape surveyed him stonily. It was a kindness for Slughorn to see him to the train but Snape knew it was only because no one else would do it. Any other seventh year would have been excused with a friend. Only Snape was friendless. Even Slughorn did not like him really.

"I have some connections at St. Mungo's" he continued as they walked. "I can probably get you into their Potions Department. You would get on there, I'm certain of it."

Severus shrugged. His future was an unknown quantity. He no longer believed that he could gain the recognition he craved through any career as he lacked the skills and personality required for any of the high profile positions he had originally hope to obtain.

"You could make quite a name for yourself in Potions," Slughorn went on. "The inventors of our most useful potions are all household names and quite wealthy as well."

Severus had already been experimenting with powerful potion ingredients to great success. Bellatrix Black had brought him a supply of things from her home but they were not the sort of things St. Mungos would be permitting him to use. They were dark, forbidden items like wormwood and unicorn blood. If he wanted to make a splash in Potions, these were the things he needed access to.

"You really ought to make a decision," Slughorn pressed. "School will be out shortly. I know I shouldn't be pressuring you, not with your mother so very ill, but I want to make sure that you have some options for after graduation."

"Yes, thank you, sir," Snape muttered. He grabbed his bag to board the train.

"You'll send an owl ahead so we know when to expect you back?"

Severus nodded, wondering gloomily how long he would be expected to remain at home.

"Very well. Good luck then, Severus." He shook the young man's hand and began his slow waddle out of town.

Severus only returned home for the summers and he was always surprised when he arrived. The Snape home and grounds had always been larger but the family had never really had the money to keep it up. Now that his parents were in the employ of the dark Lord, however, the house was fully furnished and well-maintained by a small army of House Elves. It had been nearly five years since his parents' Dark Initiation and no amount of finery could cover up what had happened in that house. Each and every time Severus Snape crossed that threshold he felt his chest tighten and his fists clench. He did not know who he hated more – the Dark Lord or his own parents.

"So you're back then?" his father said upon seeing him. "Your mother's upstairs."

Snape had no desire to see his mother but reckoned that he was expected to do so. He went upstairs to find her and was taken totally aback. His mother was clearly dying. She seemed to have changed into an old woman overnight. The flesh had melted from her body leaving only skin and bones. Her eyes were black and sunken. She appeared helpless and fragile. Snape was deeply affected in spite of himself.

"Mother?" he called hesitantly.

"Is that my son?" she gasped shifting in the bed. "My son?" her eyes filled with tears.

"Yes, mother," he replied. "I am here."

His mother began to cry in earnest. Her fragile frame shook and Snape feared it might break. "Oh my son! I've been calling for you. I was so afraid that I would never see you again."

"You asked for me?" Snape asked emotionally. So this was not for show after all. She wanted him there. He approached her bedside and knelt down. "Be still," he said, taking her hand. "I am here now."

"I've done some terrible things," she gasped. "Terrible, awful things."

In truth, he had always wanted to denounce her and his father but feared to do so. But his mother's pained remorse brought him no satisfaction. He just could not bear to think of this woman suffering any more than she already was, not this woman who only wanted to see him, not his mother,

"Don't think of that now. We are together and I shall not leave you." He held her delicate hand in both of his own, basking in the simple pleasure of human contact.

Severus did not leave her side all day. So she did love him after all. She was just unable to show it. It was as if one day could wash away an entire childhood of pain. In that moment he would have done anything for her.

She called for him again after nightfall.

"Where is my son? Where is my beautiful boy?"

Already at her side, Severus brushed a stray hair out of her face.

"My beautiful boy," she whispered, stroking his cheek. "To see you again! But I've done unforgivable things."

Snape shook his head. "Don't upset yourself."

"It's true, my love. Horrific things. But you … you're the one good thing I did with my life." She broke off wearily. Every word was an effort.

Severus felt a warm glow inside. He felt something he had never felt before. He felt loved.

"Having you, Sebastian, was the only decent thing I ever did."

Snape stiffened. "You mean Severus."

"No, Sebastian is the one I love. Sebastian is handsome and brave and true."

Snape's face contorted. He snatched his hand away. He felt betrayed, just as he had that night five years ago. "I am your son! I am your son, Severus!"

"Sebastian!" his mother wailed. "The Dark Lord took him away from us!"

Snape jumped to his feet, trembling with fury. "The Dark Lord did not take him away. You killed him – you and Father!"

"No! Sebastian," she wailed. "Sebastian."

Snape glared down at her with blazing eyes. He hated her. Hated her for loving Sebastian and not him. Hated her for choosing the Dark Lord above everything. Hated her for murdering the one person he ever really cared about.

She continued to cry out his brother's name piteously.

"Shut up, you hag!" he pulled out his wand held it high above his head. He was shaking so hard that he could not even hold it straight.

"Sebastian, my son!"

"Sectusempra!" Severus bellowed. It echoed through the house. Blood began to pour out of his mother's neck and chest. She gasped and sputtered.

"Help me!" she gurgled, reaching for her son.

Severus merely stepped aside and watched as his mother bled to death. It was exhilarating, freeing but the rage inside did not subside. He must find his father.

Taking care to avoid the blood, he stepped out of the room. He seemed to have grown instantly powerful. Doors flew open just because he wanted them to. The entrances and exits locked of their own accord. Only one person would leave this house alive tonight.

His father tried to flee but Severus got to him first. "Avada Kedavra!" He cursed him in the back and his father fell lifelessly to the ground. Snape's only thought was a vague regret that he had not used "Crucio." Certainly his father deserved to suffer. No matter. There was still a house full of elves and they would suffer, suffer for ever serving his father and mother.

With no means of escape, he killed them off one by one. Their screams for mercy meant nothing to him. Each time he killed he felt stronger. The power which had eluded him for all these years was now his to control. He could feel it coursing in his veins. Standing in the room where his brother had died, Severus realized something. He had finally become what he was meant to be.

Suddenly he felt a chill and the presence of someone else in the room. Spinning around, he realized to his horror that it was Lord Voldemort. Though how he had gotten in was a complete mystery.

Snape's heart thudded in his chest and his mouth went dry. What would he do to him?

"Severus!" he hissed. "We've met in this room before. Do you recall?"

Snape nodded mutely.

"Tobias and Aileen Snape – two of my greatest followers – dead!"

Snape drew back fearfully. He pulled out his wand.

Voldemort scoffed at him. "Put away your wand! You are no match for me!" He stepped over a decapitated house elf. "I've been watching you. You have a thirst for power. You want to feel the way you feel right now."

Snape nodded warily.

The Dark Lord smiled his twisted smile. "One day, Severus Snape, I shall bend this world to my will. Power and eternal glory await those who follow me. Leave this house and come with me. I shall be father and mother and everything to you. I will show you things you cannot even imagine. Through me you shall gain powers you can only dream of."

Severus fell to his knees. He buried his face in the hem of the dark Lord's robes. "My Lord, how is it that you alone can understand me?"

With a look of great satisfaction, Voldemort pulled the young man to his feet. "Arise, my son, for we begin tonight!"

And that very night, while his parents' bodies still lay in the house, Snape began his life of unspeakable horror. He never returned to finish his schooling, not because he was not permitted to do so, but because he knew he could not face Lily Evans, the last person living who gave a damn about what he did with his life. And even as he thought this, another part of Severus Snape knew that a time would come when he would torture so many that his heart would be hardened even against her and all that she had ever been to him.


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38

Another row at the Gryffindor table. Draco smirked to himself. Hermione Granger had been found out of bed and out of bounds on the night of his abortive initiation. Since Professor Snape had altered her memory, the girl had no excuse whatsoever. She did not even know what had become of her wand. Rumors quickly circulated that she had been out with a boy and they were driving Ron Weasley batty. He kept hounding Hermione for the truth but, thanks to Draco and Snape, she was incapable of giving it. It became a fairly common sight to see her scream at Ron in frustration or run out of the hall in tears. If it were anyone else, Draco would have thought it a shame. Since Harry and Ginny spent so much of their time together, a rift with Ron left Hermione on her own a great deal.

In the meantime, Draco was still dealing with the aftermath of his failed Dark Initiation. Snape had managed to buy him some time but the boy did not know how much nor did he really even trust the man. Certainly the potions master appeared not trust him either, as he maintained a constant watch on the boy and demanded his personal correspondence and accountings of his time.

"Prefect stuff,' he muttered to Pansy one April evening when both he and Snape had arrived late to dinner. "Did I miss anything?"

"There was a lovely leg of lamb," Crabbe replied. "With rosemary."

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm not talking about food, you half-wit."

"Actually," Pansy purred, "there was quite a little spat at the Gryffindor table. Granger started screaming at Weasley. Told him it wasn't any of his business what she does with her nights and ran outside."

"What's she going to do out there at this hour?" Goyle wondered.

"Probably going out to see that oaf Hagrid, cry on his overgrown shoulder," Draco said.

"Or Viktor Krum's," Pansy added.

"Krum?" Draco's ears perked up.

"They're pretty cozy. Everyone knows it. The whole reason the Weasel is so worked up is that he thinks she went off to see him that night. Remember the Triwizard Tournament? They're probably just picking up where they left off, though it's hard to believe he'd have any interest in a dowdy little Mudblood like her."

Although Draco doubted that Hermione was actually involved with Krum, rumors of a friendship were just as disturbing. Hadn't she told him that she ran into Krum on her way out of the school that night? And Snape, he had been very concerned, had wanted Krum tailed in fact.

Making an excuse, Draco left the table, cognizant of the whispers about him. They did not matter. What was important was finding out just what Viktor Krum knew and which side he was on. He vaguely wished that he had Potter's invisibility cloak. It would make sneaking around the grounds a great deal easier. Still he had enough experience to ensure that he would not be caught.

Evidently Pansy Parkinson had been correct. He found Hermione and Krum talking just behind Hagrid's hut. With no smoke issuing from the chimney, Draco concluded that the half-giant was out and he crouched down beside the hut. There he was able to eavesdrop on the pair unnoticed.

"Hermy-own-ninny, no. I tell you it is not safe for you," Krum asserted.

"But _you_ have a wand," she argued.

Krum scowled at her. "No. You will see Grawp in the morning. I vill take you."

They seemed to be having a disagreement of sorts but Draco could not figure out what it was about. Maybe they were having a relationship, he thought hopefully. Then he could get Krum sacked and it would not matter what side he was on.

Finally, Hermione tossed her head defiantly. "I'm going in, Viktor! If you don't want to come, fine, but it was your idea to visit Grawp in the first place!" She stormed into the trees.

Who was Grawp? And why was Viktor Krum heading out into the Forbidden Forest after dark to see him?

Viktor Krum seemed just as perplexed by Hermione's behavior as Draco was. He stepped forward, stopped and stepped backward. He switched his wand from hand to hand. It was almost like a dance. Finally he lit his wand and plunged into the woods after the girl.

Malfoy cringed. He hated the Forbidden Forest and, though he was loath to admit it, he was positively petrified to go into it after dark. He considered going to Snape with what information he already had but he knew it was not sufficient and, upon further reflection, he decided that he was more afraid of Snape than of anything he had ever come across in the forest. Placing a silencing charm on his trainers, he tailed the pair down the path.

They finally stopped in a clearing by a massive but indefinable shape.

"Hermy! Vicky!" The shaped blurted out with glee.

"Hello, Grawp. How are you?" Hermione asked.

Draco strained to see who was being addressed. He gasped. It was a giant. This must be one of Hagrid's creatures. Had he been part of the giant attack on the forest? He drew back instinctively but Krum and Hermione both took seats near him on the ground.

Hermione began conversing with him while Viktor began to magically unfasten the knots which lashed him to the ground. He seemed rather agitated and Draco had to wonder why he had decided to come out here in the first place.

He's really pleased to see us," Hermione prattled on. "It's quite a surprise for him I think."

Krum himself never addressed the giant but did murmur distractedly to Hermione who was speaking to both of them in turns. In the darkness, Draco could never be sure what happened but he saw the flash of a wand and heard a startled "oh" before Hermione Granger collapsed to the ground. He cried out in shock but Viktor Krum never heard him because the giant simultaneously bellowed in rage. The ground shook and Draco clutched the trunk of a tree to steady himself.

"Sleeping," Krum said hastily to the giant. "Just sleeping!"

Grawp howled in despair.

"Sleeping," Krum assured him. He gently rolled the girl over and brushed the hair out of her face. "See, sleeping?"

"Hermy," the giant moaned. One mammoth tear slipped down his face and splashed onto her face.

"Ve can help her. She needs medicine."

"Medicine?"

"It's in the spider's cave. They von't let me in."

"Grawpy help – Grawpy bigger than Gog." He reached over and snapped a small tree out of the ground. Swinging it like a cudgel, he cried, "Grawpy help!"

Fearing that any sound might alert Krum to his presence, Draco remained immobile. He could scarcely believe his eyes. Viktor Krum had just raised his wand against Hermione Granger and was now leading Hagrid's giant on an attack of the spiders' den. Severus Snape would definitely want to know about this and, as soon as Krum was out of earshot, Draco sprinted towards the castle.

But when the boy reached the school he realized that something was wrong. He was unable to locate Professor Snape anywhere. He checked his office, his rooms, even the dungeons with no results. Clearly the man was not in the castle. Malfoy's first instinct was to do nothing. He would wait until Snape returned, give him an account of what had happened and wash his hands of the whole affair. But a nagging voice inside his head told him that whatever was going on in the Forbidden Forest could not be ignored. The Dark Lord had made getting into the forest a priority since his return. Whatever was in there could prove to be quite decisive and Draco knew that if Voldemort truly took over, all his options would instantly vanish.

But with Snape gone who should he go to? The obvious answer was Albus Dumbledore but if any Deatheaters found out that he had gone to Dumbledore, it would all be over for Draco. The boy wavered. There was no safe choice, no guarantee of a positive outcome. Still hadn't Snape advised him to go to Dumbledore before? Finally deciding that it was not in his best interests to remain silent, Malfoy reluctantly made his way to the Headmaster's office.

He had never been there before and Dumbledore seemed slightly surprised to see him now.

"Ah, Draco, what can I do for you?" he asked pleasantly before changing his tone. "What's happened?"

Draco immediately recounted what he had seen. Dumbledore did not seem shocked, only alarmed. Had he been expecting this? He seemed to take stock of the situation immediately.

"Thank you for telling me this, Draco. Now we must make haste. Action must be taken immediately for the protection of the school." He nodded to his bird. "Fawkes – a scarlet feather to the Ministry."

The phoenix spread his vast wings and soared out of the castle.

"You're calling the Ministry Defense League?"

"Yes," Dumbledore answered matter-of-factly. "And the Aurors."

"Just for Viktor Krum?"

The old man fixed Draco with a rather sad expression. "It won't just be Viktor Krum," he said gravely. "They'll be others."

The pair then rushed out into the halls. "Draco, I need you to alert the Heads of House that all students and staff are to report to the Great Hall immediately. We must secure the castle."

Draco nodded and ran on ahead while Dumbledore continued steadily towards Gryffindor Tower. His mind was full and his heart was heavy when he came upon Remus Lupin leaning heavily on a window ledge. He looked especially old and worn, even sickly. Evidently the approaching full moon was taking a heavy toll on the man.

Lupin gave Dumbledore a faint smile, apparently too caught up in his own suffering to notice that anything was amiss. "I was just on my way to your office. I fear I will not be well enough to teach tomorrow. Shall I ask Severus to take my classes?"

Dumbledore frowned. He needed help out in the forest and Lupin was in no fit shape to aid him. "Remus, I'm going to need your assistance. I am afraid Viktor Krum has attacked a student in the forest."

Lupin gasped. "Which student?"

"Hermione Granger."

"Oh, no."

"I'm afraid so. It seems likely that the entire forest will soon be under siege. I'm going to gather the students and staff in the great Hall. Are you up to running things there?"

Lupin nodded. "Yes, I can manage."

"The castle will be locked so you need to be sure that all the students are accounted for. Especially keep a close eye on Potter and Longbottom."

"Longbottom?"

Dumbledore's mouth pulled down slightly at the corners. "Anyone from that group. What is it they call themselves? Dumbledore's Army? You know they fancy themselves amateur Dark Wizard catchers. And if they find out Hermione's in danger, there's no telling what they'll get up to. It is imperative that all of our students are kept out of harm's way."

"What else can I do?"

"Severus. If you can track him down, keep him in the Great Hall. Don't let him out on the grounds. Will you be alright? Flitwick and McGonagall are coming out with me. It will be a lot of students but you'll have the prefects and the rest of the staff to assist you."

"I'll manage," Lupin said quietly.

"Very well then. I must be off." He turned and hurried back down the hall.

"Dumbledore, wait!" Remus called urgently.

Struck by his tone, the old wizard turned back quickly.

"The Aurors – are they all to be summoned?" he asked anxiously.

"Yes, I fear we can spare no one this night."

He appeared rather stricken at this news but then straightened and resolutely pulled out his wand. "I can fight!"

"No, my friend," Dumbledore said gently a look of understanding upon his face. "Your duty tonight is to Hogwarts."


	39. Chapter 39

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, I got tied up over the holidays. Enjoy! See you in two weeks!

Chapter 39

"Professor, we can't find Hermione anywhere," Harry said over the din in the packed Great Hall.

"It's my fault," Ron grumbled miserably. "We had a row and she ran outside crying. Now there's some big crisis out there."

Ginny put a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder.

Lupin surveyed the trio with sunken eyes. "I guess you three may as well know but don't spread it around. The Forbidden Forest is under attack again and it looks like Hermione's been injured."

Ginny gasped and Harry squeezed her hand. "Do they know what happened?" he asked.

Lupin hesitated. "It was Viktor Krum," he said quietly. "Most of the staff went out to look for her and that's all I know right now."

"I don't believe it," Harry murmured. "No wonder he was always trying to make friends with me."

Ron was furious. "Krum! I knew he was no good! I kept telling her! You can't trust any of Karkarov's students! Dumbledore should never have hired him in the first place!"

"There's no point in discussing it now," Lupin said sternly. 'I need you three to help me. Professor Sinistra is standing in for Slytheran tonight so send any Slytherans over to her. Draco and Pansy will be assisting her."

Harry looked over in that direction. Draco Malfoy did not seem to be helping anyone. He was sitting by himself looking slightly green.

"Professor Sprout's got Hufflepuff sorted," Lupin noted. "But I had to put Trelawney in for McGonagall and she's a bit at sea. Ron you're a Prefect. You best go over and help her. She doesn't know half these students."

Ron did not look happy but headed over in that direction. "You'll let me know if you find out anything about Hermione, won't you, Sir?"

Lupin promised that he would.

"What can we do?" Ginny asked eagerly.

Making a face, Lupin pointed over to the Ravenclaw area. Poor Professor Binns was trying to take roll from several scrolls while his charges behaved as if they were at a holiday Quiddich match.

Harry eyed them dubiously. "Where are the Head Boy and Girl?"

Ginny soon got the Gryffindors settled down enough to take roll but in general the hall was in pandemonium. The older students were definitely taking advantage of the situation wile many of the younger ones were upset. Lupin had spoken to the assembly and told them that things were well in hand but he just did not inspire the kind of confidence that Dumbledore or even McGonagall would. Besides he too seemed worried and nothing that he could say would lead the students to believe otherwise.

After a time, Harry noticed a commotion in the front of the Hall.

"Let's go," he said to Ginny and they headed over in Lupin's direction. Ron left his post and joined them.

A haggard-looking Flitwick was making his way in. His robes were singed and behind him floated a stretcher. In the stretcher, unconscious but appearing unharmed, was Hermione Granger.

"Let's get her to the hospital wing," Lupin said.

Flitwick shook his head decisively. "No. She's to stay in here. Pomfrey's in the forest trying to attend the injured."

Lupin conjured up a cot and they laid Hermione in it. Ron immediately grabbed her hand. "Is she okay?" he asked, looking from Flitwick to Lupin.

Flitwick nodded. "She should be. She's just been badly stunned. We found her lying well away from the fighting. We reckon the giant stashed her there to keep her safe. Hagrid always said they were pals."

"Hermione, I'm so sorry," Ron cried. "I shouldn't have kept bothering you."

Taking his colleague aside, Lupin began to press for further information in frantic whispers.

"How are things out there?"

Flitwick shook his head. "Pretty bad. There are scores of Death Eaters. The worst of the fighting is around the spider's den. I think there must be a passage into the school from there. Dumbledore's committing everything to keeping the Death Eaters out of there."

Lupin bit his lip. "Are we fending them off?"

"It's hard to say amidst all the confusion. It's pitch black and the spiders are attacking everyone indiscriminately. Hagrid's giant is getting through them but he's only taking orders from Viktor Krum who seems to have masterminded the whole attack."

"Where's Hagrid?"

"I wish we knew. We need all the help we can get. The other side is absolutely brutal. They're actually attacking Molly Weasley and Nurse Pomfrey when all they're trying to do is attend to the wounded. It's barbaric. Bellatrix Lestrange has some sort of enchanted tiara. She's flying through the air and setting people ablaze with an unquenchable flame."

Lupin winced.

"Oh, Remus," Flitwick moaned. "You can't imagine the screams. And so many of them are kids just out of Hogwarts, Percy Weasley's Defense League – they're not trained fighters."

"I've darkened the windows so the students wouldn't see but I thought I saw a bright light."

"The forest is burning. Bellatrix Lestrange – she's insane! Her own people are being burned alive."

"Can't Dumbledore stop her?"

"Minerva transfigured her into a stone and she fell from the sky but I doubt it was fatal." He drew a ragged breath.

"I have to go out there," Lupin declared. "They need my help."

Flitwick looked appalled. "No! You mustn't even think it. Dumbledore has a plan to evacuate the castle if it comes to that and there's no one else here capable of executing it."

Harry glanced around the Hall. Professor Flitwick was correct. There did not seem to be anyone even remotely capable of managing things. Filch was huddled in a corner whimpering with his cat. Professor Trelawney and Firenze were currently engaged in a shouting match over which disastrous end the war would have. Their students listened, horror-struck. Only Professor Sprout had her House in order but Flitwick was saying that she was needed outside to help treat the wounded.

"The students must be protected at all costs!" the tiny man asserted.

Professor Lupin put his head in his hands momentarily before gathering himself again. "I've sealed off most of the castle and rechecked the security measures that Dumbledore put into place. We are safe here for now."

"I must go back," Flitwick replied drawing out his wand. "Keep an eye on the girl."

"Wait! Have you seen Nymphadora Tonks?"

"The Auror?"

Lupin nodded anxiously.

"Yes," Flitwick answered eagerly, pleased perhaps to bear some good tidings. "She's okay. Do you want me to give her a message if I see her again?"

"Yes. Tell her …" he hesitated. "Tell her I love her!"

Harry's head turned reflexively at the declaration. So did a lot of people's. He expected to see his teacher all lit up inside, the way he felt when he thought of Ginny, but, if anything, the man looked even wearier after his conversation with Flitwick.

He almost wished he had not listened in on the conversation between the two men. Flitwick had painted a terrifying picture and Harry could not understand how Lupin could still be rounding the hall checking in with teachers and monitoring the doors and windows. After all, people were dying out there and not just any people, people he knew and cared about and there was no way to get news. Although Harry knew that he was not ready to face Voldemort, he had a sudden impulse to race outside into the fray. After all, wasn't it he, he alone, that could ultimately stop it? These thoughts were so distracting that he could not even manage to stay at his post. He wandered the Hall aimlessly leaving Neville to assist Professor Binns - which really was not right, because if anyone was upset it was Neville. He looked so stricken that Lupin had to go over just to see if he was coping.

Time wore on slowly with no reports from the battle. Although everyone was fearful, weariness finally won out and students began to transfigure their sweaters into pillows and rest at their tables. Still, no one was able to get much rest under the circumstances – no one except Ginny Weasley. She had conjured an entire bed and was sleeping serenely through the entire ordeal. Harry wished he could be more like her. Deciding to check on Hermione, the boy began to make his way to the front of the Hall where Lupin was monitoring her. It was then that it happened.

His scar erupted with such pain that the force of it nearly knocked him off his feet. Harry's eyes watered and he grabbed the edge of the table for support. Moaning, he clasped his hand to his forehead, feeling the heat from his scar. A cold dread swept over him. Pain like this was not common. Pain this excruciating could only mean one thing. Voldemort was near. Voldemort was here. As if to confirm his suspicions, he watched as Ginny suddenly rose and moved trance-like towards a large window.

Professor Lupin had seen him stagger and had risen immediately, looking concerned, but the moment Harry had put his hand to his scar the man had frozen. His face had fallen as if he had just remembered something unpleasant and he had dropped his gaze. It was the underlying issue that now colored their whole relationship, Harry's connection to Lord Voldemort. But because of his recent familiarity with Voldemort's mind, Harry was able to ignore Lupin's reaction and concentrate on relaxing his own mind. He knew from experience that he could not fight these insights and doing so would only worsen the pain. Besides, he needed to intercept Ginny before she was reprimanded for approaching the window where she was now pressing her hands.

"Ginny," he said quietly as he approached but she did not answer. He was about to try again when the girl drew back in horror and let out an ear-piercing scream which was soon echoed by the entire Hall. Glancing up, Harry saw the face of Bellatrix Lestrange floating menacingly in the darkened window. Her face was lit from below, eerily illuminating her hooded eyes and maddened leer. It was a ghastly sight and Harry froze, transfixed.

Lupin was on his feet. He came sprinting over with his wand drawn. "Get away from that window!" he shouted and glowered at Harry as if he were somehow responsible.

Stung, Harry stumbled back. The face vanished as quickly as it had appeared and, as Professor Vector attempted to calm the students, Lupin threw a number of spells at the window. Harry fully expected him to chastise him about loitering by the window but when his teacher looked at him again he appeared a tad regretful.

"Are you two alright?" he asked.

The teenager shrugged indifferently.

"Why don't you go check on Hermione?" Lupin suggested. "She won't come back and we're safe in here."

It was as good a suggestion as any but, as he and Ginny turned to go, Lupin grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Let me know if you start to feel any worse," he said in a low voice.

Not likely, thought Harry irritably. He had seen the man's initial reaction and was not keen for a repeat.

"Harry!" Ginny called. "Hermione's waking up!"

Relieved, he hurried to join Ron and Ginny at her side.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"A little woozy," Hermione admitted brushing her unruly hair out of her face. "What's going on?"

Harry hesitated. They had already been told not to bring up Krum but Ron immediately plunged into his account of events, complete with his personal and unflattering insight into Viktor Krum's character.

Hermione was devastated. She flatly refused to believe that Krum had acted on his own volition.

"He was bewitched!" she exclaimed. "He must have been!"

Everyone told her she was mistaken but she continued to maintain his innocence, becoming increasing agitated by attempts to dissuade her. So much so that when Dumbledore came in two hours later to say that it was over and that Viktor Krum had been apprehended, she burst into tears.

Harry tried to console her but it was no use. Only when the Headmaster himself came over did she quiet for the entire story was quite sobering. Protected by Grawp, Krum had escaped without injury but the giant had battled his was through the Arachmantulas and was bitten more times than could be counted. Although Nurse Pomfrey was attempting to care for him, it was unlikely that he would survive. But at least his beloved Hagrid would be by his side at the end which was more than could be said for the rest of the wizards and witches who had lost their lives that night.

Upon hearing the tale, Harry felt a fresh wave of fear wash over him and he felt Hermione stiffen beside him.

"Did we … did we win?" he asked in a constricted tone.

Dumbledore did not answer immediately. He seemed to be considering the matter carefully which gave Harry an opportunity to look at him more closely. He showed all signs of having been in the fray. His favorite plum velvet robes were torn and his face was covered in soot. A long cut snaked its way down his cheek. But there was something else, something in the old wizard's eyes that Harry had never seen before – an almost lost look. Finally he began to speak in a slow, deliberate tone.

"Our students," he paused and looked directly at Harry, "our greatest assets, have been kept safe. For tonight that is enough.

It was difficult to see Albus Dumbledore appear so defeated and for a long time no one spoke at all. Not until Ginny nodded towards her Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher.

"Professor Lupin – he's really looking bad."

Following her glance, they found Remus Lupin sitting with his head in his hands. Lupin, who had been weak all night, was now in obvious pain. If they had not been familiar with his condition they would have thought he was a dying man.

"How did he go downhill so quickly?" Ginny wondered.

"Because when the school needed him, he had to function," Harry answered with a new found respect. "But now that it's over, he doesn't have the strength to fight it."

Ron Weasley did not seem convinced. "Maybe," he said with a shrug before casting an anxious glance at the door. "Or maybe now that it's over, he knows there's nothing to do but wait to see just who does come back."


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40

"Headmaster, I've prepared the Draught of Peace for you." Severus placed the goblet on the large wooden desk. He had always thought that using it showed a weakness in Dumbledore but this time, perhaps, it was in order. He doubted the old wizard had stopped since the battle two days ago. The forest was gone, burnt to the ground along with most of its inhabitants, and the human toll was equally high. Just yesterday the Headmaster had broken down while reading the longest list to date of Hogwarts dead to the assembly. Severus had never seen him so affected. "I've made it a bit stronger tonight, sir."

Barely glancing up from his work, Dumbledore murmured his thanks. He clearly expected the potions master to excuse himself but Severus could not leave without knowing.

"Headmaster, the Sorcerer's Stone …"

Sighing, Dumbledore leaned back heavily in his chair. His face was an odd gray color and he looked exhausted.

"It is gone. I was forced to destroy it during the battle. It was the only way to keep it out of the hands of Voldemort."

Destroyed! Snape let the news wash over him. "Is it possible to create another one?"

"No! There isn't enough time."

Not enough time. That sounded bleak. He did not want to pose the next question. He dreaded the answer and it seemed ludicrous that he, Severus Snape, who had stood against both Aurors and Death Eaters, could fear the answer to a simple question.

"But without the Stone you will die, will you not?"

Straightening his half-moon glasses, Dumbledore regarded the man carefully. "Yes, I shall," he said simply. "Certainly I've lived well beyond a wizard's life span. It will not be immediately but we no longer have the time we thought we had and Voldemort knows it."

Snape shrank inwardly. It was he who had told the Dark Lord about the Stone on the night of Draco Malfoy's would-be initiation. Now Albus Dumbledore was dying and with him would go all chance of vanquishing the Dark Lord. He flung himself hopelessly into a chair, working his hands into tight fists.

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. "Are you about to tell me that it was you who informed Lord Voldemort about the Stone's location in the forest?"

Snape's eyes snapped up. "You knew?"

"No, Severus. I did not know, not initially. But certain signs – the timing, the severity of the attack, even your demeanor these last few days. I did begin to suspect."

"Headmaster," Snape exclaimed. 'Do not think-"

The old wizard held up his hand. "I know why you did it. You did it to spare young Draco Malfoy and, while it may have been ill-advised and certainly the consequences have bourn that out, I do not hold it against you. Protecting him was a noble and brave deed."

Severus could hardly believe his own ears. After all that Dumbledore had done for him, he expected him to be furious, to lose all faith in him. "But, Headmaster, I have betrayed you."

"What is done is done," he said firmly. "I only ever intended to use the stone until I could ultimately rid the world of Voldemort."

"But the plan," Snape lamented. "What will become of it now?"

"We will do the only thing that we can do," the old wizard responded calmly. "We must move up our time table and trust those with a part to play."

"He is not ready."

Dumbledore looked stricken. "He will have to be."

Both men were silent for a moment but Dumbledore was quick to regain his composure. "While I do have you here, Severus, we would do well to touch on a few other matters."

Snape agreed, though he was unable to put his concerns about the stone aside.

"As you are no doubt aware, I had to meet with the Minister of Magic over that disaster in the forest."

"Is Viktor Krum still in custody?" Snape asked.

"Yes, but I've been unable to ascertain when his trial will be."

Snape looked sour. "It's a pity the dementors no longer work for us."

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "It's a pity they ever did. We've no right to take a wizard's soul."

"But for a traitor like him."

"There now, Severus. They were many who once thought the same about you," he said gently.

While Snape mulled that over, Dumbledore continued on.

"Percy Weasley wanted a full report on the school. He's concerned for student safety, especially Potter's. They thought they might be able to protect him better away from school."

It was absurd to think the boy could be any safer than at Hogwarts. "Is his head full of sawdust? I seem to remember that it was."

"Perhaps," Dumbledore responded with a slight smile. "But Lucius Malfoy's is not. Nor are the rest of the advisors he's surrounded himself with."

"Lucius Malfoy! He's a blackguard! He would sell out his own son if he thought it'd advance him with the Dark Lord."

Dumbledore nodded. "As to that point, Lucius seems to suspect that it was Draco who raised the alarm the other night. I told him that it was actually our Head Boy but I am not entirely convinced that he believed me."

"Then everything I have risked for the boy has been in vain," Snape despaired. "I have failed everyone."

The old wizard shot him a disapproving glance. "I did not tell you that in order for you to bemoan what's already happened. I need you to be prepared should the subject come up. Now, as far as the current situation with the Deatheaters …"

But Snape's mind was busily replaying the events of Draco's ill-fated initiation.

"Severus!" Dumbledore called a bit sharply. "Listen to me. This situation with the Death Eaters has been playing on my mind."

Finally, thought Snape. He had come up with a solution to the dilemma he was embroiled in with Claudia. He gave the man his full attention.

"It is not my belief that this imposter Claudia has any real evidence against you."

Severus' lower lip curled. Had Dumbledore listened to anything he had told him? "It is my fear, Headmaster, that she does," he responded coolly.

"Ah." Pressing his fingertips together, the old wizard regarded Snape carefully. "On this particular occasion let us assume that I am correct."

Snape was more than a little irritated. Although Dumbledore was always asking for information, information that had to be obtained at great personal risk, he never took any of his informant's actual opinions as valid.

Dumbledore seemed to sense his feelings and was equally annoyed. "Given what has already happened, it is clear to me that in this particular matter, you lack the ability to be objective. I hardly think that we need yet another disastrous occurrence to prove that. So to be succinct, yes, we are going to assume that I am correct."

On one level, Severus knew the man was correct. Nor could he argue with Dumbledore after his own mistakes had jeopardized everything. "What do you wish me to do?"

"We must discover her true identity. If she continues to pass sensitive information to Voldemort, the damage may be irreparable. And ultimately, Severus, she will have to be eliminated in one way or another."

Severus nodded grimly. He was being asked to kill again, to stain himself further. Would this be the Unforgivable Curse that sent him spiraling back into his old life? The lure of the Dark Arts was strong and resisting it had become his daily burden. "I will do what is necessary."

The old wizard nodded at him and Snape turned to leave. It was then that he spotted it, a sheet of pale pink paper half-hidden beneath Dumbledore's massive wizard chess set. His eyes widened instantly in outrage. He spun around.

"No! You can't possibly mean to send him back there!" he exclaimed.

Sighing, Dumbledore shot a rueful glance at the letter from Petunia Dursely. "The death of the boy's guardian, while tragic, changes nothing. Harry Potter must return to Privet Drive."

Severus' black eyes flashed wildly. "I warned you that they were in danger and you did nothing."

"We are not going to have this conversation," Dumbledore declared. "And certainly not with you in this state."

He did not care what the Headmaster said. He had been stewing over this for months and refused to let it go. "You could have stopped it. You should have stopped it. Now you continue to put them in harm's way? How can you be so reckless? But I suppose it doesn't matter to you. You'll just call up the potions master for another calming draught. No sleepless nights for you."

Dumbledore stood up and glowered down at Snape. "And you think a few sleepless nights are going to make up for all you've done?"

Snape paled.

"You think that I am unfeeling? Sirius' death, Vernon Dursley's death, this last attack on the forest, there are things you'll never even know about." The old wizard's voice broke and he put his head in his hands allowing his silver hair to fall over his face. "I bear responsibility for all these events and I cannot alter that. But I go on, all these long years, as I must. The wizarding world depends upon me and I cannot allow myself to sink into despair." He straightened. "Petunia Dursley and her son are protected as they've always been."

Snape was livid. "You think it is reasonable for Lily Evans' last remaining relations to be locked up in their own home?"

"Lily Potter," Dumbledore corrected him in a low tone.

A murderous expression formed on the Potions Master's face.

Dumbledore jumped back in before he could speak. "No, I don't think it's reasonable or acceptable but I am not trying to kill them. I am trying to keep them safe. There are a great many people in danger. I did not put them there but that fact remains. Nor can I possibly hope to help them all. The Dursleys are not the only ones who are no longer safe on the streets. They are fortunate that they at least have a house they can be assured is safe. After all, it is my recollection that Claudia Moody was murdered in her very own home."

Severus' thin frame shook. How could he bring up Claudia Moody? He hated him for doing so. "I don't speak of the past."

"No, you don't talk about the past but you allow it to run your life. And it must stop, Severus, for all our sakes. You make faulty decisions based on what you should have done twenty years ago and it does no one any good. This situation on Privet Drive is a perfect example."

When Severus Snape spoke again, his voice trembled emotionally. "I swore to protect her."

"But you were unable to. Lily was murdered and over-protecting her sister is not going to bring her back."

He stiffened. Hearing the words spoken aloud made it seem even more terrible. He just wanted to get out, to leave Dumbledore and be alone with his pain.

"Yes, by all means, Severus, get out of here and haunt the corridors as you do every other night," Dumbledore said acidly. "While I actually take action to prevent other deaths."

Severus Snape sat in sullen silence.

"You parade around these halls wearing your suffering like a badge thinking that your remorse is the last shred of humanity left to you. But I know differently, Severus. I know differently."

When Snape finally spoke his voice was filled with bitterness. "You who have spent your entire life struggling against evil. You cannot even conceive of the remorse that I live with day to day nor the knowledge that no amount of regret will even come close to making up for the things I've done."

"There are things that you've done that will haunt you to your dying day and maybe it is best so. But I can tell you this. When Voldemort is finally defeated and everything is made known, people will see your bravery and selfless work for the cause and they will know that Severus Snape is indeed a changed man. But when they realize what I've done to bring about a victory, justified or not, they will not be so quick to forgive."

Snape regarded the old wizard coolly. "Unlike you, Headmaster, I do not seek to be forgiven, only forgotten."


	41. Chapter 41

Author's Note: Sorry, I tried to post last night but the server was down.

Chapter 41

"Harry, I think it's time we started meeting more regularly," an exhausted Dumbledore had pronounced shortly after the attack in the Forbidden Forest. "The war, as you have undoubtedly concluded, is going rather poorly and, as much as it pains me to say it, I do not believe that your confrontation with Voldemort can be very far off."

Although it had been unsettling to hear, Dumbledore was only vocalizing what Harry himself had come to believe and it was a tremendous relief to hear that Dumbledore intended to guide and prepare him for this moment. He had taken Defense Against the Dark Arts with Dumbledore for nearly a year and found him to be a brilliant instructor. His meetings with him, however, did not prove to be as immediately insightful as he had hoped.

His teacher spent much of their time practicing spells that they had already covered in class, spells which Harry had already mastered. The rest of their time was devoted to eating treats and listening to Dumbledore describe his own personal battles against Dark Wizards. Other times he skipped the sweets and discussed alchemical experiments he had conducted in his younger years. Often times he would ramble on for an entire meeting about seemingly random topics.

Although the old wizard had always been a bit eccentric, Harry could not help but begin to wonder if Dumbledore had any real plan in place to vanquish Lord Voldemort. In fact, he only seemed to have a vague notion about utilizing Harry's mind connection. Dismissed one fine spring evening, he was frustrated to realize that he actually knew more about which chocolate frog cards Dumbledore still needed to complete his set than about any potential weaknesses the Dark Lord might have.

He headed up to the dorm where Ron was propped up in his bed composing a letter.

"Are you writing to Percy?"

Ron nodded. "Just broke my quill. Do you have a spare?"

Harry waved his wand. "I think there's some in my trunk. You can check if you like."

As his friend started rifling through the trunk, Harry told him he had come across Hermione crying in the Common Room earlier that day.

Ron looked concerned. "Is she alright?"

"She's still really upset about Krum," Harry explained. "She says no one will give her any information about him."

"There's nothing to find out," Ron snapped. "He was working for Lord Voldemort. He betrayed Dumbledore. He betrayed the school. It's lucky he did not kill her."

"I know, I know," Harry said quickly. "But she doesn't believe that and she's really worked up."

Ron threw a pile of clothes out of Harry's trunk. "How can someone so smart be taken in by that con after all the damage he's caused? Has she been down to see Hagrid lately? He's in a right state with Grawp dead – plus all his other creatures. We always thought they were monsters but he liked them alright. I heard he had a little funeral for Aragog. In fact, Bill told me he was so furious when he arrived and found out what happened that he personally took out about ten Death Eaters. She should be glad the Ministry got to Krum before he did."

Harry agreed with everything Ron said but he could not bear to see Hermione so upset. "Do you think you could ask Percy what's going on with him? Just to set her mind at ease?"

Ron stopped going through Harry's things and glared at him. "No," he said stubbornly. If she wants to find out about that traitor, she can read about it in the paper like everyone else."

Harry was about to say that the Prophet was not saying much about Krum since his arrest but decided against it. He knew Ron would not change his mind. "Well, maybe you could stop being so hard on her. None of it is her fault and we are supposed to be her friends."

With a non-committal grunt, Ron plunged back into Harry's trunk, fishing out an enormous polo shirt. "What's this, Harry? Are you taking a muscle-growing potion?"

"No, it's my cousin's." He laughed. "I guess I should send it on to – to …" Once again Harry had the odd sensation of being unable to name Dudley Dursely's school, even though he knew exactly where he went. As soon as he would open his mouth to say it, he would suddenly forget, only this time he could not attribute it to the Elysian Elixir.

Ron gave him a funny look.

"Wait a second," said Harry. "They must have put a secret-keeper charm on his school because I know where he goes only I can't say it."

"Must be," Ron agreed, dumping a stack of Harry's books onto the floor.

'You haven't found those quills yet?" Harry frowned.

Ron only continued to rummage through his things. "Didn't you tell me that Krum had given you a Dark Arts book one time? Do you still have it? Ah, here it is. I'm turning it in. Evidence for his trial."

Harry bit his lip. Ron was right to take it, he supposed, but he wondered how Hermione would feel if she found out that Harry was giving evidence against Viktor Krum.

Twenty minutes later, Neville Longbottom stormed in. Harry and Ron exchanged glances. No one had seen the boy since Defense Against the Dark Arts where the once quiet Neville had become quite a discipline problem, challenging Dumbledore at every turn. No one could explain the change in the teenager which had coincided with their return to school in the fall. It was as if, as Dean Thomas suggested, Neville had turned rebel for the duration.

"Neville, where've you been?" Ron asked.

"After Dumbledore threw me out of class, Professor McGonagal snagged me. She reckons I've become incorrigible."

"Neville, you're going to get kicked out of Hogwarts," Harry warned him. "Dumbledore's not just your teacher. He's Headmaster."

The round-faced teenager shrugged. Apparently getting kicked out of school was not a concern.

"Do you want to get booted out?" Ron asked incredulously. "What will your grandmother say?"

"He won't kick me out," Neville said ruefully. "He and my Gran go way back. He's probably sending her an owl right now wondering why little Neville has become so difficult to manage."

Harry was at a complete loss. "Well, what is going on with you?"

"It's Dumbledore!" Neville snapped. "I hate the way everyone looks to him – himself included."

"Neville, he's like the greatest wizard that ever lived," Ron interjected. "He's done loads of stuff."

"That's what he wants you to think. Where was he when the Lestranges attacked my parents? What about when they busted out of prison? And what about Harry's mum and dad? Where was he then?" He fixed his gaze upon Harry who shifted uncomfortably. "He and his lot started this war and now he expects other people to finish it."

"Blimey!" Said Ron after Neville had stormed back out. "He's gone completely mental!"

While Harry had to agree, privately he found himself unnerved by Neville's words. Because he knew that Dumbledore did expect someone else to defeat Voldemort – himself, Harry Potter. With each new terrible thing that happened Harry felt even more responsible. The burden of his duty weighed like a millstone around his neck. What was more, he felt that there was no one, not even the great Dumbledore, who could possibly comprehend what it was like for him. Only his girlfriend, Ginny, seemed to understand, though they never discussed it. He sensed a kinship with the girl – a closeness that he knew could not exist with anyone else.

It was this more than anything that kept him going down to Ginny's secret room to calmly practice spells and brew sleeping draughts and energizing potions. Whatever mayhem was going on in the outside world, it found no reflection in the girl and when Harry was with her, he too, lost any sense of it. It was appealing, this private world of hers, and though he knew that Voldemort had not left her unharmed, it was all too easy to overlook the fact that she trusted few adults or acted rashly with no thought to the consequences.

It was harder to dismiss the almost daily dreams of Tom Riddle but Harry, too, had been possessed by Voldemort and he would not hold it against her the was Lupin had him. "No one's ever understood me the way you do, Harry," she would declare with a dreamy look in her eyes and Harry would pull her tight to him, believing every word.

At breakfast the next day, Ron did seem to be making an attempt to be kinder to Hermione who still appeared rather downcast. The morning's mail, including the Daily Prophet, had failed to bring any further news of Viktor Krum but to Harry's surprise; he had received an owl from an unknown sender.

"A fan letter?" Hermione inquired for the teenager had been receiving a fair few of them since last year's episode in the Dept. of Mysteries.

"Another nutter?" Ron offered.

"Right on both counts," Harry said glancing through the note which was heavily decorated with pink hearts and the initials LL & HP. "The writer seems to think that we are destined to be together. She foresees us meeting up this weekend in Madame Puddifoots."

They all had a good laugh at the writer's expense and Harry started to crumple up the letter when something about the signature hit him. He did not recognize the name, Lana Lovelorn, but there was something in the handwriting that did seem vaguely familiar.

Suddenly it him what this letter was. When Ron refused to ask Percy about Krum, he had used his DA galleon to contact Luna Lovegood in the hope that her connections with the Civilian Resistance would be able to provide her with some information. Was this her coded response? Did she want to meet up at Madame Puddifoot's?

Since Hogsmeade trips were cancelled for the duration, it was no easy matter for Harry to sneak off the grounds and he dared not mention anything to Ron or Hermione for Luna's safety. Although Dumbledore had admitted that the Resistance was currently propping up the war effort, membership in the group was strictly prohibited by law.

The teashop was deserted and for a moment Harry was seized by a terrible fear that he had misinterpreted the letter and would indeed be meeting some crazed, lovesick fan but Madame Puddifoot nodded to a table in the corner and locked the door behind them. A moment later Luna came out of the back room accompanied by none other than Rita Skeeter dressed rather plainly in black.

"What's she doing here?" he demanded.

Luna looked confused. "Rita? She's the one with all the info – number one spy for the Resistance."

Luna and Rita exchanged respectful glances and sat down with Harry.

"So you're here about Krum?" Rita asked abruptly.

"Well, yeah, but how did you know?"

"Rumor is your friend Granger refuses to believe that he masterminded all the mayhem at the school."

Harry looked over at Luna who shrugged. "Well, Hermione's a tad emotional. I certainly don't believe her but I have been wondering why the press has not been covering the story and she is my friend. I hate to see her so upset."

"Your friend's right," Rita announced. "Viktor Krum was acting under the Imperius Curse."

"Are you sure?"

"There's no doubt. The authorities knew he was bewitched almost immediately," Luna added. "They've even used Veratserum. That's why they found Hermione so far from the action. He attempted to fight the curse to keep her safe."

Harry was doubtful. "Moody told me that's what they all say. Krum was raised on the Dark Arts. He certainly did not need to be under the Imperius Curse to pull this off."

"That's true, kid, but in this case there was some evidence," Rita explained. "They found Igor Karkarov's wand on the battlefield and determined that it had cast the Imperius Curse."

Harry was hit by a sudden revelation. "Dumbledore sent Krum to Bulgaria at Christmas! Maybe that's where Karkarov's been hiding! Krum was never quite right after that break. Hermione will be so relieved when she hears that Krum's going to be released with a clear name!"

"He won't be released," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"What?" He glanced over at Rita for confirmation.

"It's probably true. A lot of people died and the school was in danger. Krum makes an easy scapegoat. You see, the Ministry does not care if he is innocent or not. They just want to be able to say that they've got the bad guy. I doubt very much that there will even be a trial and, if there is, it will be a total farce."

"But what about the evidence?" Harry demanded.

Rita laughed. "I'm sure it's been destroyed by now."

Harry was outraged and he could not understand why his companions were not.

"The ministry's corrupt," Luna said with a shrug. "They're either impotent or corrupt. And this administration is obviously corrupt. Honestly, Harry, this cannot be news to you."

He met her eyes. "How far up does it go?" he asked warily.

Luna knew what he was fishing for. "Is Percy Weasley involved in all this? That is the question of the hour. We think he must be involved but it may be unwittingly."

"He seems to be under Malfoy's thumb," Rita added. "It's possible he's just a puppet but that doesn't speak much to his intelligence."

Harry fell silent as he attempted to take it all in. What, if anything, could he share with Ron and Hermione?

"Luna, I have to go," Rita announced. "I'll see you back at Headquarters. Don't forget to give him the card. Later, kid," she said, nodding to Harry before leaving the shop.

"Right," said Luna. "I can't forget this." She emptied her pockets on the table, spilling out an odd assortment of things. Fishing out a chocolate frog card, she dumped everything else back into her pockets. "This is for you," she said proudly.

It was a wizard card from a package of chocolate frogs, one that Harry had never seen before. Godric Gryffindor – Revolutionary.

"Er, thanks," he muttered, convinced that she had morphed back into her old batty self. "I don't actually have this one."

'No, silly. It's a signal. If you need to know if someone is sympathetic to the Resistance, you show them the card and ask if they have it. If they ask you if you'll sell it for two galleons and three knuts, then you know they are one of us. Likewise if anyone approaches you with one, you must ask them if they're interested in selling it for two galleons and three knuts and they in turn will know that you are safe."

"Pretty clever," said Harry, pocketing it. "Thanks. And thanks for meeting with me."

"I'm glad you contacted me. I wanted to talk to you about something or someone. Ginny Weasley, actually."

"Ginny?"

"Harry, I think you should stay away from her," she said seriously.

"What? I thought you guys were friends?"

Luna looked him straight in the eye. "Something is not right with her. I can't explain it but my intuition tells me that you should keep away from her."

Member of the Resistance or not, Luna was apparently still fairly loopy and this was evidence of it.

"I mean it, Harry!"

Harry made an effort to deflect the conversation away from his girlfriend.

"All the serious work you are out there doing and you're worried about all us little people back at Hogwarts? I'm touched, Luna, positively touched," he said lightly.

She smiled and he smiled back.

"I can't stay. My father has work for me," she announced, rising suddenly.

"Alright, be careful out there, Luna, or should I say Miss Lovelorn?"

They hugged quickly and, giggling, she stepped out of the tea shop and back into her work for the Resistance. Harry Potter followed, making his way back to school and wondering when he would be called upon to play his part in the great conflict of their times.


	42. Chapter 42

Author's Note: Due to my travels I will not be posting during the month of July. There will be an important installment in two weeks, but nothing after until August. However, I hope maybe I'll see some of you at Lumos 2006 in Vegas!

Chapter 42

"Ginny, Ginny, my darling." There he was, sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle, his dark hair neatly combed and his school uniform tidily pressed. "Come, my darling."

And she seemed to step out of nowhere, not the eleven-year-old girl he had first met in the Chamber of Secrets, but Ginny Weasley as she was today, grown and nearly reaching his own height.

"Tom," she whispered.

He reached out and caressed her face. "I thought you had forgotten me."

"No, never," she assured him.

Riddle let out a mournful sigh. "You know that I am trapped, that the world has trapped me as I am now."

"I know what they say about you, Tom, but I don't believe it. I discovered your diary and I alone know the real you. All these years you've been helping me, sharing your powers and protecting me."

The boy smiled wistfully and a tear streaked down Ginny's face.

"If only I could free you," she lamented.

"Would you, darling?"

"Of course, but how can I?"

"You must be willing to share some of your powers with me as I have done for you."

Ginny agreed and Tom held out a silver locket on a chain.

"Do you agree then to let me tap into your powers? To aid me in my escape?"

"Yes, I will."

He placed the chain around her neck. "There, my darling, I shan't be trapped for long."

Harry sat bolt upright in bed. This was not one of Ginny's typical dreams involving Riddle. It was too vivid, too current and much too disturbing. Dreamt or not, the hold Riddle continued to have over her was absolute. Voldemort had skewed her mind. Of that fact he was well aware but this was beyond anything that he had suspected. Ginny was in trouble and he would have to intervene even if she hated him for it.

As soon as he was able, the boy raced down into the dungeons where he was relieved to find her. He had half-believed that she had been spirited away, silver locket and all, into the night by Riddle. Instead he found her calmly watching a rose snaking its way out of her cauldron.

She cocked her head and smiled. "Hi, Harry. Look what I can do."

It was a neat bit of magic and Harry had to marvel at her skill but he would not be deterred by her seemingly calm manner. He knew now that it only disguised a very troubled young lady.

He immediately got down to business. "I saw that dream you had last night, Gin."

She surveyed him coolly. "You know that I sometimes dream about Tom."

"Tom?" he cried incredulously. "Ginny, that's the problem. Tom Riddle is not your friend. He's Lord Voldemort and he obviously has some sort of hold over you."

Ginny looked angry. "I told you before -"

Harry stopped her. "No, I'm not listening to this again. You cannot see the truth because he's warped your mind but I am telling you he is not your protector."

"Then no one is!" she cried and jumped up. "They all let Voldemort possess me, drag me down into the chamber."

Harry stared at her. What could he say possibly to that? He had heard most of this before and, while it had once seemed like a response to stress, it now seemed like something much more sinister. She was clearly incapable of grasping the fact that Voldemort and Riddle were the same person. Unable to reason with her, he finally told her that he was going to Dumbledore.

"You can't!" she cried. "They'll kick me out of Hogwarts."

"Gin, listen to me. Everyone will just want to help you."

"Harry, I'm not the Chosen One. They're not going to bend the rules for me. I'll be expelled."

Harry hesitated. It was probably the truth. "I have no choice. I have to tell someone. You spend all your time down here brewing and taking who knows what. You're having all these dreams and there's this strange connection to Voldemort. I'm really worried about you."

Ginny began to sob uncontrollably. "Please, Harry!"

He had expected resistance but he could not stand to see her so upset. "You have to go to someone," he relented. "Even if it's not Dumbledore."

"Tonks, then," she sniffed. "I'll go to Tonks."

Harry furrowed his brow. He was not convinced that Tonks would be an ideal candidate for the girl to confide in. Ginny was pretty wily and likely needed a stronger and savier authority figure. He feared she could easily manipulate the young Tonks. Beside, he had already gone to Tonks at Christmas with concerns about Ginny and she was no better for it. Still, if the girl was willing to speak to her it was at least a start. He agreed but vowed privately to go straight to Dumbledore if Tonks did not take some significant and immediate measures.

As soon as Ginny had calmed, Harry went to Lupin's office and arrange a meeting with Tonks. It had been a while since he had been there without an appointment and Lupin seemed a bit surprised to see him. Harry was adamant that Ginny speak to Tonks as soon as possible but gave not indication as to why. Apparently he must have seemed out of sorts because Lupin acted very concerned about the pair of them. More than anything, Harry wanted to sit down and tell him everything and, if it had just been Ginny's potions, he might have done so but he knew Lupin would be too horrified to hear about a link to Voldemort to be of any help.

"Tonks is coming tomorrow to have tea with the Headmaster. Can she stop then?" Lupin asked.

"I guess that would be alright," Harry answered distractedly. After talking to Ginny, even a day's delay seemed too long.

"Tonks is very fond of Ginny. I know she'll be happy to speak to her." Lupin cleared his throat. "You know, Harry, my door is always open to you anytime you want to talk. You needn't wait for our weekly meetings."

"Sure," said Harry but he didn't entirely believe it. He knew that Lupin no longer viewed him as he once had.

"How did you make out with Ginny?" Lupin asked when Tonks came back to the office.

"Fine," she said slinging her bag onto his desk. "She's okay."

Lupin was surprised. He had expected to hear a bit more. "What was wrong?"

Fishing out a small mirror, Tonks quickly checked her appearance. "Nothing really – just girl stuff." She flashed him a smile.

"Is that all?" he shook his head. "I thought when Harry came to me that he was rather upset."

Suddenly she seemed interested. "What did he tell you?"

"Nothing. He just said that she needed to talk to you but he led me to believe that it was something serious."

"And you didn't press him?" She was looking at him rather intently and Lupin wasn't sure why. Perhaps he should have pressed the boy but he doubted it would have yielded any results.

"No, I let it go. Listen, I'm sorry you had to rush out here for such a trivial matter."

Tonks shrugged. "It's no problem, Remus. I enjoy talking to Ginny and I like to offer her some guidance where I can." She frowned. "I thought you felt the same about Harry."

Lupin sighed. "You know I do. It's just that with Harry things are a bit more complicated."

Tonks gave him a look of reproach. As if he did not feel bad enough about it on his own.

"I don't even know how much of Harry there is left behind that scar," he explained.

She touched his arm in a comforting way.

"Anyway when push comes to shove I'm there for Harry and he knows that."

"Does he?" he heard her murmur but, anxious to let the subject drop, he ignored it.

"We had better head downstairs. We don't want to be late for tea."

Tonks agreed and began fishing in her bag again. A number of items fell out and scattered on the floor. Remus leaned down and collected them. Grinning, he handed them back to a clearly flustered Tonks.

"I don't believe it. Can it be that Nymphadora Tonks, distinguished Auror, is actually nervous?"

"I know it's silly," she admitted as she applied a fresh layer of gloss to her lips. "I've met him a million times before but it's different now. After all, he is your boss and I want to make a good impression."

Touched, he leaned in to kiss her. "You needn't worry, love. I don't think you're even capable of doing other wise."

Tea was already set up when Minerva McGonagall escorted them in. Seated by the fire, Albus Dumbledore did not rise to greet them and, when he turned towards them, they could see that his eyes were yellowish and sunken in. Tonks stiffened beside him.

I should have warned her, Lupin thought. She could not know how frail Dumbledore had appeared since the battle.

"Forgive my manners," Dumbledore said. "Nurse Pomfrey insists I need more rest and Minerva insists I listen to her."

"I thought I heard you were injured in the Forest," Tonks said taking a seat next to him.

"Oh, it's nothing," he said dismissively. "I'm just not as young as I used to be."

"None of us are," Lupin remarked lightly but McGonagall cast him a withering look. Honestly, thought Lupin. Women could be so sensitive about their ages.

"I'm so glad that you could make it, Nymphadora," McGonagall said, passing her a teacup.

"Yes, with such discord in the world it is a great pleasure to celebrate good fellowship," Dumbledore added.

"Speaking of celebrations, did you hear that Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour were just married?" Minerva asked.

"Yes, they tired to elope but Molly sussed it out," the old wizard clarified. "So she and Arthur went to Paris to see them off. Hopefully, they will have many happy years together." He turned to Lupin and Tonks. "Had you two heard the news?"

"Ah, yes, we did," Remus answered. He was starting to feel a bit awkward under the scrutinizing gazes of the headmaster and deputy headmistress.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "Delightful institution, marriage," he mused.

Tonks, usually impossible to embarrass, squirmed uncomfortably next to him while McGonagall, apparently oblivious to the couple's discomfort, beamed at them.

Lupin hastily cast about for a change in topic. "Voldemort's been rather quiet since the attack on the school. That's something to be grateful for, anyway."

"Hear, hear," Dumbledore agreed heartily. "Though one does wonder what he's up to."

"Plotting," McGonagall ventured. "Plotting more treachery and vile deeds."

"Or working on one of his reprehensible experiments. I doubt he's given up on regaining his physical form," Remus said grimly.

They all turned to Tonks who, as it turned out, had nothing to add.

"You're very quiet, Nymphadora," Dumbledore commented. "You need not be guarded in here. Yet, I can sense you're very closed. Why it's much like having a conversation with Alastor Moody."

Minerva gave her a warm smile. "It's that tough Auror training. Once it's ingrained in you, you can't just turn it on and off."

Or maybe it's the fact that you just embarrassed the poor woman, Lupin thought irritably.

Suddenly Tonks flinched and her teacup went sailing. The hot liquid spilled everywhere. Now she's spilling things, he thought ruefully. She always gets clumsy when she's nervous.

Tonks rubbed her left arm and her eyes began to water.

"Did you get burned?" asked Lupin.

"Just a bit," she admitted. "Sorry about the mess." Taking out her wand, she siphoned tea out of the carpet. "I really am such a klutz."

As she retook her seat, Severus Snape stalked in unexpectedly. He surveyed the group with obvious disdain.

"Now, Severus," Dumbledore reproached gently. "Don't give us that look. You know very well that we invited you to come as well but you said, 'No, I've too many potions to brew – I've no time for tea parties.' But still we did save you a scone." Dumbledore held one up invitingly. "Look brambleberry. Yum!"

Snape looked sour. "Headmaster, I've come to tell you that I am missing certain necessary ingredients. I must procure them immediately." He met Dumbledore's eyes whose tone quickly changed.

"I understand. You will, of course, inform me when you've returned."

With a curt nod, Snape turned to leave.

"Severus, be careful," McGonagall urged but if he heard her he gave no indication of it. He was gone as quickly as he had come.

They all fell silent because, contrary to what Snape had said, it was clear to all that the Potions Master had been summoned by the Dark Lord.

In an effort to break the silence, Lupin scanned the room for a conversation piece. "Have you ever seen the Headmaster's wizarding chess set?" he asked Tonks. "It's quite impressive."

Tonks walked over to admire the set while Lupin pointed out some of its features. "Tonks is quite the chess enthusiast," he informed the rest of the group. "She's an exceptional player."

Tonks flushed. "No, I'm not. It just seems that way because Remus, God bless him, is such a hopeless one."

Unable to argue the point, Lupin grinned sheepishly. "You ought to play Dumbledore some time."

She looked almost panic-stricken. "Oh, no. I'm no match for him."

Dumbledore, however, appeared intrigued. He made his way over to the chess set. "Now, now, my dear. Rumors of my abilities are greatly exaggerated I'm sure. After all, no one is unbeatable." He bowed slightly. "Please honor me with a game."

Seemingly at a loss, Tonks turned to Lupin and McGonagall for help.

"You might as well get it over with, Nymphadora," McGonagall sighed. "He won't rest until he's played you."

Tonks sat down reluctantly and Dumbledore waved Lupin away.

"Come on, Remus," Minerva said. "Let's head down to Madam Rosemerta's and get ourselves something a bit stronger. These two will be at it for hours."

Settling herself opposite the Headmaster, Tonks attempted to explain that she lacked the necessary skills to really become adept at the game.

Straightening his glasses, Dumbledore looked her directly in the eye. "On the contrary, Nymphadora, I suspect that you are a brilliant strategist."


	43. Chapter 43

Author's Note: Well this is the last installment until Friday, August 11. Have a great July, maybe I'll see some of you in Vegas!

"Harry, I'm so cold," a small voice moaned behind him.

Turning, Harry found Ginny's small figure huddled in a deserted stairwell. He had been searching the entire castle for her.

"What happened? Did you talk to Tonks?"

She nodded miserably. "She's sending for my parents and she's taken all of my potions. She thinks they're making things worse."

Harry felt a wave of relief. Not only was Ginny finally getting some help but she was also off all the potions. No wonder she looked so wretched. All too well he remembered how awful he had felt when he stopped taking the Elysian Elixir. He tried to tell her that it was all for the best but he knew she did not believe him. Besides, she was too distracted to even listen.

"It's so cold," she murmured and her entire body shook.

Harry took her hands in his. They felt like ice. "It's just the effects from stopping the potions."

Ginny nodded. Apparently, Tonks had forewarned her. Letting out a small moan, she curled up against Harry who put his arm around her.

"I'm afraid it will get worse before it gets better."

"Stay with me, Harry," she pleaded. "Don't leave me." And she turned her pallid face to him so that he could see her bloodless lips. "Please don't leave me."

"Don't worry, Gin. I'll get you through this." But even as he said it he knew that she was in far worse straights than he had ever been. She seemed to be weakening with every moment and summoning blankets did nothing to warm the girl.

Harry felt a distinct pang of guilt. He should have told Lupin where he was getting the elixir so many months ago. It would have at least spared her this. And now that things were out in the open, how would the school handle things? They would surely not hold her responsible for her connection to Voldemort but her secret chamber, her potions, her dubious books? The number of rules she broke on an everyday basis was mind-boggling. And Harry – he had been drawn right into it, breaking rules right along with her. The school could not overlook such a flagrant disregard of authority.

They'll expel her, he concluded. And they should expel me too. But he knew they would not. Fair or not, Harry knew Dumbledore considered him a special case.

Ginny slumped further into him and he stroked her hair feeling utterly useless.

"Talk to me, Harry," she whimpered. "Just talk to me."

Glad to be doing something, Harry began a monologue of anything that popped into his head. He told her about Neville's increasing number of detentions and Ron's inability to pass the apparition test. He spoke about Krum's unjust imprisonment and Hermione's futile letter writing campaign to the Daily Prophet. Ginny did not respond to any of it and her ignorance of these matters only served to highlight how very isolated she had become.

He was running out of things to say and was becoming increasingly concerned about Ginny. Her skin had become translucent, broken only by the blue veins snaking up her arms. Was this truly the result of missing a few doses of potions?

Wearily she fixed her eyes on his but they seemed vacant as if she was not really even seeing him.

"Keep talking," she implored him. "Tell me about the day you found out that you were Slytheran's heir."

"Sure, Gin," he said before realizing what she had requested. "Wait a second. What do you mean?"

Ginny's eyes rolled in their sockets. "What about the day you found his hidden chamber?"

"Ginny," Harry asked slowly, "do you know who I am?"

She smiled weakly. "Sure, Tom. You're my best friend."

Harry's breath caught in his throat. He could no longer delude himself that she was having a bad night. She needed help immediately. Fighting back a wave of panic, he calmly told her he was taking her to Dumbledore's office. Too feeble to protest, she raised her arms for Harry to lift her. Bracing himself, he pulled her up. She felt unexpectedly light as if the pull of earth no longer had any hold on her and this frightened Harry more than anything he had witnessed thus far.

Ginny loosely wound her arms around his neck and Harry dragged her up the stairs and through the empty corridors.

"Everything is going to be fine," he reassured her. "Just as soon as we get to Dumbledore's office." But their progress was slow and Ginny seemed to be fading fast. He could feel her breaths becoming further and further apart.

"Where's my mum?" she muttered.

"She's coming. Tonks already sent for her," Harry told her. He looked ahead hopefully. "Hang in there, Gin. We're almost there."

But just as Dumbledore's office came in view, the girl's arms slipped from his neck and she slid to the floor.

"Ginny!" He bent down to pick her up and was almost over come by shock. The once vibrant girl appeared nearly lifeless and Harry could not rouse her. Unable to bear the thought of leaving her sprawled helplessly on the cold stone floor, he clasped her cold, limp hand in his and began to scream as loud as he could.

"Help me! Please! Somebody help!"

The phoenix statue at the Headmaster's office began to move and an obviously alarmed Dumbledore hurried out with Remus Lupin at his side.

"What's happened?"

Harry wished he knew. In a voice rising with panic, he gave them a garbled account of the evening emphasizing Ginny's potion habit.

Suddenly, Ginny let out a gasp, as if trying to speak. Harry lifted her head off the floor and leaned in to hear her.

"Help me, Harry," she whimpered. "Help me!" She clawed desperately at her collar.

"She's totally incoherent!" Lupin cried. "What's happening to her?"

"She's speaking Parseltongue," Dumbledore replied gravely. "No potion could do this."

They have no idea what's wrong with her, Harry realized. His heart plummeted. They won't know how to help her. He cradled her in his arms and, before anyone could even react, Ginny drew her last ragged breath.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as the three of them stared at Ginny's body in stunned horror.

"She's dead," Dumbledore declared incredulously. "What has happened to her?"

Harry began to laugh uncontrollably. Lupin looked horrified. It was a high-pitched laugh and it took possession of him. He felt a familiar ache in his head and the presence of another consciousness.

"Did you honestly think that I would be content to stay in that monstrous form?" he spat. "I, Lord Voldemort, who have conquered death itself?"

If the old wizard was rattled, he did not show it. "You drained the girl's life to restore yourself to your former body. Such magic usually requires a willing sacrifice unless I'm much mistaken."

"Oh, Miss Weasley was willing. You with your pious ideals might say that she acted under a rather limited definition of free will but she agreed to aid me nonetheless."

"You tricked her, Tom." It was an accusation.

"Perhaps, but it was all too easy to do. You see, you were so worried about Harry Potter that you failed to recall that I had already possessed the girl through my diary. Although you told her parents that there was no lasting harm, the truth was that a connection was already forged. It was just dormant. After my resurrection it was a simple matter to awaken my presence in the girl and convince her to aid me."

"All of this for your personal vanity?"

"Oh, no, Dumbledore, it's more than that. Now that I have broken free from the constraints of that reconstructed corpse and gained the form of a striking young man, I shall no longer be forced to reside in darkness and the world is at my feet. An event made all the more triumphant knowing that I did it under your vigilance with one of the students you profess to keep safe." Harry laughed maniacally. "I'd love to stay and tell you exactly how I stole Miss Weasley's life from her but time is of the essence – not for me, of course, but you, Dumbledore. It looks as if time might have finally caught up with you." He turned to Lupin. "Or haven't you let your colleagues in on your little secret yet?"

"It's no secret that I'm human," Dumbledore responded coolly.

But Harry's body had already gone limp, signaling Voldemort's departure. He lay on the floor with his hand pressed to his skull and his eyes tightly shut, listening to Dumbledore and Lupin try to puzzle out what had happened and delaying the moment he would have to look on Ginny's lifeless form again.

"Dumbledore, look!" Lupin exclaimed. "It's a necklace. She must have put a disillusionment charm on it. I couldn't see it before."

At the mention of the necklace, Harry sat bolt upright, a sick feeling growing in the pit of his stomach.

"I've seen this before," he gasped and told them about the dream, which he now believed was a sending from Voldemort.

Both men stared at him, their expressions inscrutable. Were they accusing him?

"I thought it was a dream." He tried to explain but how could these two people possibly understand all that had transpired? Harry himself could not quite fathom it. All he knew was that the only individual who really understood him was dead, yet another victim of Voldemort. How could he have been so blind?

"I swear I thought it was a dream!" he exclaimed. "If I didn't, if I knew it was real …" He swallowed hard and continued emotionally, his eyes stinging with tears. "I would have torn it off her neck! I would have thrown it in the lake! I would have taken her as far from Hogwarts as I could! I -" he broke off unable to continue and wrenching the locket from Ginny's neck he flung it down the hall.


	44. Chapter 44

**Author's Note: I'm back! Sorry it's a little late. I'll be back to my regular posting schedule of every other Friday from now on. Thanks for reading. See you in two weeks.**

Chapter 44

"What's happened in here?" Harry gasped as he led them into Ginny Weasley's secret chamber. "Did she – do you think she did this?"

Lupin and Dumbledore gazed about in utter amazement. The entire room was in shambles. Pages were torn out of books and strewn throughout the room. Cauldrons had been overturned, their ingredients dripped onto the floor. Shattered glass abounded. Most appalling of all were the slurs against Dumbledore painted all over the walls.

"Am I to understand that this is not the way she usually kept this chamber?" Dumbledore asked evenly.

"No," breathed Harry gazing around in disbelief. He stepped further into the room where the statue of Salazar Slytheran stood untouched and uncovered. He gazed at it contemptuously as if it were somehow responsible for what had happened to Ginny.

"She always kept this covered," he said in a constricted tone and, peeling off his robes, he made to throw them over the simian figure.

"Harry, no!" Lupin exclaimed pulling him back. "Don't touch it. It could well be cursed or full of dark magic."

"Professor Lupin's right," said Dumbledore. "This chamber was almost certainly Slytheran's and probably Riddle's during his time here. We shall have to make careful investigations. How long has Ginny been coming down here?"

Remus' mind reeled over recent events and he watched as Harry seemed to grope numbly for an answer.

"I don't know, sir. I can't remember what she said."

"It's alright, Harry," Lupin said, noting the tremble in Harry's voice. 'Don't upset yourself. We'll figure out what happened."

Dumbledore walked through the chamber picking things up off the floor and examining them. He seemed quite intent on discovering what had happened.

"And no one else knew about the existence of this chamber?" he asked.

"No," the boy answered emphatically. "It was our secret."

Lupin winced. Could this be the reason Harry had wanted Tonks to talk to the girl? Then why had Tonks insisted it was nothing?

Dumbledore nodded without looking up and combed through some of the glass shards in the far corner.

"No, wait," said Harry slowly as if still trying to work it out. "I think maybe she told Tonks."

"Tonks!" Lupin exclaimed. He was stunned and rather appalled. "Has she been down here?"

Dumbledore's head snapped up.

"I don't know," Harry replied. "But I think she must have been. She said she was confiscating Ginny's potions and they do seem to be gone."

Bewildered, Remus failed to understand how Tonks' name kept coming up in relation to this appalling incident when he knew nothing about it. He could feel Dumbledore's gaze upon him and wondered what he was making of all this.

"Dumbledore, I would like to be the one to tell Tonks about Ginny." It was true but he also wanted some answers and once Remus departed he headed straight for the Auror's flat.

He did not even let her speak. "Sit down, Tonks. I have something to tell you."

"Fine," she said quietly but looked distinctly uneasy as she took a seat. She looked up at him doe-eyed and Lupin drew a deep breath before joining her on the sofa.

"Ginny Weasley has just died up at the school."

She paled instantly and her lip began to tremble. "What happened to her?" she gasped.

Remus ran a hand through his hair and related the tale as best he could. Tonks seemed heart-broken. Pressing herself into his arms, she wept silently against his chest. Relieved by the genuineness of her grief, Remus held her tightly but, even as he tried to comfort her, certain questions began to nag at him and he gently pulled away.

"What happened between the two of you yesterday?" he asked.

Tonks blinked. "Not much. She thought she had gotten into trouble with some potions. I told her I thought she was right so I confiscated what she had and I wrote an owl to her parents."

"But I specifically asked you if anything was wrong. You told me there wasn't."

"If I told you, Remus, you would have gone to her Head of House and she would have been expelled. There's only two weeks left in the school year. Why jeopardize her future? She had all summer to get straightened out."

Lupin stared at her. "You didn't think she needed help?" he asked incredulously. "When I saw her she couldn't even walk!"

Now it was Tonks' turn to be incredulous. "What are you saying, Remus? That I just left her to die in some deserted castle corridor? How can you possibly even think that? When I left Ginny she was doing okay."

Remus' head swam. He did not even know what he was accusing her of but he knew he was upsetting her. Yet he could not let it go. A number of other odd incidents that she never fully explained came crowding into his mind. Something was just not adding up.

"Harry told us she was in terrible shape by the time he came upon her and I don't see how she could have gotten so bad in the space of a few hours."

She tried to imply that Harry was exaggerating or confused and this only served to infuriate Lupin. His voice rose immediately.

"Harry literally had to drag that poor girl through the castle because she was too weak to stand and too confused to tell the difference between him and Riddle. She died right there in his arms. If there's one thing Harry's clear on, it's how bad off Ginny truly was."

Tonks' face hardened. "You're taking Harry's word over mine?"

Lupin paused before answering. He could sense the conversation beginning to spin out of control. Maybe he should not even have come here. Everything had happened so quickly. They were all upset and Harry had been in such a state. Perhaps it would have been better if he had waited. He adopted a calmer tone.

"Ginny Weasley is dead. I'm just trying to figure out what happened."

"She was alright when I left her," Tonks insisted. "You believe me don't you, Remus?"

"I- " He bit his lip. "I honestly don't know what to believe, Tonks."

She stared at him in disbelief.

"No owl ever reached Arthur and Molly. Dumbledore had to send them a raven."

"I sent them an owl," Tonks protested tearfully. "Did Harry tell you that?"

"He said that's what you told Ginny," Lupin said quietly.

"Because that's what I did!"

Lupin sighed. He had no way of verifying it one way or the other. "Did you know about that secret room she's been going down to?"

Here Tonks seemed to hesitate. "Yes, she told me about it. I know it was technically out of bounds but a lot of students have secret hangouts. I'm sure you and your Marauders did."

"That room was so full of Dark Magic that Dumbledore had to seal it off. There were dangerous potion ingredients and all manner of books on hexes and curses. And you didn't know about any of this?"

"She never told me!" Tonks exclaimed. "She had me fooled just like all of you."

This was a fair point. Ginny Weasley had managed to fool them all into thinking she was fine – her teachers, her parents, even Harry Potter who had seen enough to know that she was in serious trouble and had apparently been so for some time. Still, Lupin could not escape the feeling that something was different with Tonks.

"I don't believe this!" she exploded. "You actually think I had something to do with that poor girl's death."

"No, of course not," Lupin said earnestly. He would not go as far as that. "But I just can't see that you did anything to help her either."

For a moment Tonks looked stunned as if Lupin had slapped her in the face. Then she began to sob. "How can you say that? How can you even think it? I loved that girl like a sister. Don't you think I feel bad enough about it on my own without you coming down here and throwing the blame at my feet?"

"Tonks, love," he murmured gently but made no attempt to stop her as she ran out of the room and threw herself onto the bed.

Remus rubbed his temples. He could hear her crying in the next room. I should go into her, he thought. Only a total bastard would sit out here and listen to her cry. But he could not bring himself to do it, not in light of all that had transpired. Nor could he contemplate walking out the door. So he sat frozen on the sofa listening to her wails.

It was Tonks that finally caved, padding back out barefoot and tear-stained, her hair mussed and midnight black. Sidling up to him she tentatively slipped her hand into his. If anyone had accused him of what he had her, he could never have even looked at him or her again, he thought idly.

But her touch was warm and familiar and he did not resist it. Eventually he pulled her toward him because it was just easier. Easier to touch her soft skin, to murmur "Nymphadora" into her ear and pretend that nothing had changed. Tomorrow he would go back to reality. The reality in which young Ginny Weasley was dead and the love of his life had probably spent the last two hours lying to him about it.


	45. Chapter 45

**Sorry I couldn't get this posted last night. Thanks for reading. I'll see you in two weeks, back on Friday.**

Chapter 45

Professor McGonagall flagged them down in the corridors just before dinner.

"Potter, would you please pack up Mr. Weasley's things for him? He will be coming in this evening to collect them. You and Miss Granger can wait in the common room and I'll arrange to have dinner sent up later."

Harry agreed and went into the dormitory to pack Ron's things. In actuality, however, it was Hermione who did most of the packing because she knew several charms to do it magically. Otherwise, it would have taken forever to collect all of Ron's things which were scattered about the room. The Weasleys had taken Ron back to the Burrow the night Ginny died and he would not be coming back to finish the last week of the school year. Apart from the funeral, where Ron had been exceptionally quiet and withdrawn, they had not seen their friend since the tragedy and, although Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had told Harry that they did not blame him for what had happened to their daughter, the fact was that Harry did hold himself partially responsible. Because of that, he was now finding it rather difficult to face his best friend.

When Ron came in he hugged Hermione and, for a moment, Harry thought that he had been unnecessarily anxious – that nothing had changed. When Hermione pulled away, however, and Harry looked his friend in the eye, he knew that things were not the same at all. All too plainly he could read the accusations on Ron's face.

"You're still here then," he noted coolly. "Dumbledore didn't expel you for breaking all those rules?"

The frostiness of Ron's tone took Harry aback and he did not immediately respond.

"No, I suppose not. After all, you're a special case, aren't you?" Ron continued bitterly.

"Ron!" Hermione exclaimed.

He rounded on her, his eyes filled with tears. "He knew, Hermione! He knew about the potions, that room! He even knew that she was still connected to Voldemort."

Hermione stepped back, momentarily speechless. Her eyes glinted sympathetically.

"But I didn't know what would happen," Harry protested. "You have to believe me!"

Ron eyed him with disgust. "You know what you are? Poison! Everyone around you ends up dead – Cedric, Sirius, your uncle, even your parents. And this time it's my little sister! And you knew she was in trouble! And you did nothing!" He snorted. "You'd better stay away from him, Hermione, or you'll be next!"

"It's not Harry's fault, Ron. It's Voldemort's!"

"Don't you see, Hermione? It doesn't matter. The end result is the same. Ginny's dead just like everyone else."

Harry felt sick. Everything Ron was saying he had thought himself but the rancor in his best friend's tone only magnified the true horror of it. He struggled to keep his composure.

"So what are you saying?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't know. I just think it would be better for Hermione if she kept away from you for a bit."

Hermione started to cry softly. "Harry, I would never do that. Ron, you're just upset. You can't mean what you're saying. Things'll seem better after summer break. I'm sure they will."

"I'm not coming back to Hogwarts," Ron replied tonelessly. "I'm going to work for Percy at the Ministry."

Hermione dissolved into tears and Harry stiffened. He wanted to tell Ron about what Luna Lovegood had said about the administration being corrupt, how Lucius Malfoy was pulling the strings but he felt too guilty about Ginny to say anything and he knew that bringing up Viktor Krum would only make things ten times worse.

"Ron, I'm really sorry about Ginny. I really am!" he blurted out emotionally.

"It doesn't make a bloody bit of difference," Ron spat and, grabbing for his trunk, he stormed from the room.

Hermione looked from Harry to Ron's retreating back, clearly torn.

"I'm alright." Harry sighed. "Why don't you go after Ron? He's certainly not going to listen to anything I have to say."

"Oh, Harry," she murmured tearfully. "Try not to feel too badly."

And she was off, leaving Harry to wonder if he had just seen Ron for the last time and thinking he couldn't blame him if he had.

Glancing at his watch, he realized that it would not be long before the tower filled up with Gryffindors coming back from dinner. He just could not handle seeing anyone now, least of all Neville Longbottom who was so devastated by Ginny's death that he some how blamed himself for it. There was someone to blame apart from Voldemort, thought Harry bitterly, but it certainly wasn't Neville.

Wandering out in the corridors, Harry headed without realizing it to the very place he had so often fled in times of trouble – Ginny's secret chamber. Only it was empty now, closed to all but those left to investigate the incident. Struck by a fresh pang of grief, Harry felt very much alone until he made out the figure of Remus Lupin coming down the stairs.

"I've been looking for you, Harry. I thought I might find you down here."

Harry moved aside and his teacher sat down stiffly beside him. Lupin's company was not unwelcome. Although Harry had assumed that the episode with Ginny and Voldemort would have confirmed Lupin's worst fears about him, it had actually had the opposite effect. Lupin had come to Harry the very next day to apologize for becoming so very distant. He had witnessed what happened to Ginny because she was so isolated and was adamant that Harry not suffer the same fate.

"I heard what happened between you and Ron," he said presently.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. It had only just happened.

"The Fat Lady," Lupin explained. "I'm afraid all the portraits know. Are you alright?"

"How can I be?" Harry muttered. "Everything Ron said was true."

Lupin frowned. "Harry, Ron doesn't even know what he's saying at this point. He's in shock. I know it's difficult but you can't let that be an extra burden on you."

"He says I just let it happen," Harry complained. "And maybe I did but I tried to get her help. I spoke to Tonks about it way back at Christmas only it didn't seem to matter."

Lupin did an obvious double take. "You went to Tonks about Ginny?"

"Yes, sir. I didn't want to get her into any trouble and I knew that she and Tonks were friends. I thought Tonks might have told you now that Ginny's gone."

"No, she didn't tell me," Lupin said quietly. "What exactly did you say to her?"

Harry thought back. "I told her that Ginny was dreaming about Riddle and that I was really worried about her. She said that she'd talk to Ginny right away - said she was pleased that I confided in her."

"And did she speak to Ginny?"

It seemed an odd question. "I assume she did. Only it was right around Christmas and with everything that happened I never got a chance to ask her about it."

Apparently Lupin had no more inclination to revisit the events of Christmas than Harry did. He leaned back wearily.

"The Headmaster tells me that you were getting the Elysian Elixir from Ginny – that she was brewing it. Is that correct?"

Harry bristled. This was beginning to sound like an interrogation and he had already gone through all of this with Dumbledore. He admitted that it was true.

"And where was Ginny getting the ingredients for all these potions?" Lupin asked evenly his eyes intent on the boys face.

He was clearly attaching a great deal of importance to the question and Harry was reluctant to answer.

Lupin gave him a tense smile. "It's alright, Harry. You may speak freely."

"Ginny told me that Tonks gave them to her, Professor."

"I see." Lupin's tone was grim, as if the answer were expected, and suddenly Harry realized it was not he who was under investigation. It was Tonks.

Tonks, Harry felt, had handled things rather badly with Ginny but who was he to point fingers? Still there were some things about the woman that had been troubling Harry and maybe now was the time to bring them up.

"Professor, how did you find out that I had brought the Elysian Elixir with me at Christmas?" he asked.

"Kingsley Shacklebolt found it among your things when we were trying to determine what had happened to you. Why?"

Harry took a deep breath. "Professor, Tonks saw it in my stuff the very first night I came to Grimmauld Place."

Now Lupin looked surprised. "What?"

Harry explained how she had tripped and spilled out the bottles in his room. He had always wondered whether or no she had told him.

"I – I can't believe her!" Lupin stammered in outrage. "How could she possibly have kept that to herself? She knew what was at stake!" His face darkened and he looked so stricken that Harry began to second guess himself.

"I guess it's possible that she didn't see it," he ventured.

Lupin eyed him doubtfully. "I thought you just told me it was in plain sight."

Harry licked his lips nervously. "Well, it was but Tonks has always been a little -" He stopped short not wanting to offend Lupin.

"A little what, Harry? Careless? Unconventional? Inexperienced?"

Harry gaped at him unable to formulate a response. Under normal circumstances Lupin would never be having this conversation with him and he was not sure he was the best candidate for it.

"That's what I kept telling myself," Lupin confessed heavily. "But it just doesn't fit, does it? Young she may be but Nymphadora Tonks is a highly trained Auror. Her skills are far superior to mine."

Turning from Harry, he ran his hands through his graying hair before burying his face in them. For a time no one spoke, until Lupin finally straightened up and fixed his eyes back on the boy's.

"She's changed, Harry," he said in an oddly constricted tone. "She's not the same woman I met last year." There was a pregnant pause. "I think someone's gotten to her."


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46

"There is a reason Ginny kept that statue covered," said Dumbledore in response to the boy's question. "Slytherin's statue was a kind of portal out of Hogwarts. Certainly Voldemort used it to communicate with her and it is likely the way he managed to get Slytherin's locket through to the poor girl."

Harry knitted his brow. "So those dreams I thought I was having about Riddle may not have been dreams at all?"

"Quite possibly. Although we will never know for certain, I venture to say that some of those flashes were from actual conversations between Lord Voldemort and Ginny. Her own perceptions were so clouded by potions and his connection to her that I doubt even Miss Weasley knew what was real."

Although Dumbledore had asked him to come to his office with any questions about what had happened to Ginny, Harry found no solace in the answers received. Sitting once more at his headmaster's desk, Harry found that his mind kept drifting back as it so often did to Ginny's last hours and the terrible moment afterwards when he had led Dumbledore to her chamber only to find it ransacked.

"I know you found the state of her chamber extremely disturbing," the old wizard said kindly. "But I need not explain to you that Voldemort was very much in control of Ginny in those last hours before he took her life."

"Riddle, sir. She always called him Tom," Harry muttered, his mind still working on the image of her chaotic chamber.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Yes, Voldemort knew well her vulnerabilities. He always does."

Leaning back, he placed his fingertips together. "Something about that chamber still upsets you, Harry. What is it?"

The one thing that Harry had found most unsettling was the slurs against Dumbledore which had been scrawled all over the wall. They were vicious and, Harry suddenly realized, the product of a deep and personal hatred going all the way back to Tom Riddle's day.

"Professor, why did Riddle hate you so much?" he asked curiously.

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "I should think that would be obvious, Harry. I've stood against Voldemort at every turn. My victories are his defeats."

Harry had had too many conversations with his headmaster not to see that this was an attempt to evade the question. He refused to be put off. "I'm not talking about Voldemort, sir. I saw what was written in that chamber. That was Riddle and it was personal. Now why would a schoolboy harbor such a grudge towards you?"

There was no immediate answer. Dumbledore looked as if he were trying to make his mind up about something. Finally, he fixed his clear blue eyes upon the boy. "Well, of course, I cannot be certain but I've long suspected that Voldemort feels as he does because he believes that I killed his mother."

Harry was flabbergasted. "What?"

"I know it is difficult to imagine that the all-powerful sorcerer we now know as Lord Voldemort could possibly care about any other human being. But you must recall that he was once an orphaned schoolboy, abandoned and unwanted by his father. It's natural, perhaps, that he would grow to despise those he held responsible for his station in life, his lost opportunities, his very identity."

Harry stared back at him open-mouthed. "But, Professor, why would he think that you had anything to do with that?"

"Clearly the time has passed," Dumbledore said with a slight smile playing on his lips, "since I could satisfy you with a simple answer. Nor do I have any simple answers left to give you."

"I don't understand, sir. Why would Riddle think you killed his mother?"

"My path and Riddle's were destined to cross. That much was inevitable. Now whether it was my actions that eventually turned him down the path to becoming Lord Voldemort, I cannot say. But, if you will permit me, I shall tell you our story and you can judge for yourself. But I must warn you it is a lengthy tale for it began a long, long time ago."

Harry nodded mutely and settled in his chair rapt with attention.

"Hogwarts was not yet a school but a fully functioning castle with a slytherin on the throne and a court to serve him. At that time I was a young man not much older than yourself."

"But that's not possible, sir" Harry protested. "This school was founded 1000 years ago. That would make you -"

Dumbledore held up a hand. "Ah, Harry, I must request that you not interrupt me. I shall attempt to explain everything and you may ask whatever you wish when I'm finished."

Puzzled and not entirely satisfied, Harry sat back in his chair.

Dumbledore then revealed that he was a Tirion wizard, born under the rarely occurring Tira comet. All Tirion wizards were extremely powerful, blessed with extraordinary brainpower and singular magical ability. All such children were taken to the castle to be apprenticed as the King's Alchemists.

"As the King's Alchemists, we were bound to the royal family. It was a regrettable alliance," Dumbledore confessed. "The king's thirst for supremacy, coupled with our own unquenchable desire for knowledge led us to research areas of magic which should never have been tampered with."

Harry was not sure he followed him.

"The Dark Arts, Harry," Dumbledore explained. "It was through us that the Slytherin family gained such affinity for them. We bestowed upon his line power nearly equal to our own and made the castle a stronghold of magic accessible only to ourselves and the royal family."

"But the monarchy fell," Harry interjected. "Ages ago."

"Quite so," Dumbledore nodded approvingly. "During the revolution, the royal line was apparently eradicated; the castle abandoned and closed. Hidden within its walls lay all our research, spells and items of enormous, unnatural power – accessible to none but an heir of Slytherin or a Tirion wizard."

Harry shifted in his seat impatiently. "This is all very interesting, sir, but I don't see what it has to do with Riddle or his mother."

"Nor did we," Dumbledore admitted. "Until Salazr Slytherin appeared on the scene, claiming to be descended from the royal line. We saw at once that he was singularly gifted and when he re-opened the castle as a school, we became concerned that he was attempting to reclaim his birthright. A number of ugly incidents seemed to support this and we feared what he had the potential to become. Using our influence, we turned Godric Gryffindor against him and he soon fled the castle for good. He was never seen again in spite of our best efforts to locate him."

"Why did you want to find him so badly?"

"Because we now realized what we had done so long ago when we had served as the King's Alchemist's."

Harry looked blank.

"We had created a line of wizards with powers beyond that of any normal wizard. Apart from ourselves there were none who could counter them or wield the items hidden within the castle. Add to that the Slytherins' inherent sense of entitlement and we dreaded what would happen when one of them made their inevitable grab for domination. We would not rest, we vowed, until we had somehow made wizarding kind safe from this threat."

This last statement seemed almost to cause the Headmaster pain. Closing his eyes, he paused for a time before calmly continuing his narrative.

"Time stretched further onward with no leads and my colleagues and I began to wonder if the royal line still existed. In fact, it was not one of us but Caratacus Burke who finally rediscovered the Slytherin lineage when a young witch named Merope Gaunt came into his shop seeking to sell a locket that had belonged to her ancestor Salazar Slytherin. She desired money to buy a wedding present for her husband-to-be, a muggle by the name of Tom Riddle."

Harry's eyes widened. "Voldemort's father?" Now they were getting somewhere.

"The very same," Dumbledore confirmed. "However, this information put us into the position of having to make a rather difficult decision. As Slytherin's heir we knew that she must possess some rather extraordinary powers. She could access even more if she desired to do so. In addition, she was planning to marry, possibly continuing the bloodline and producing further heirs to the Slytherin birthright. We argued over what, if anything, should be done."

"Many of my fellow Tirions believed that by killing off the last heir of Slytherin many future deaths could be prevented. Others, including myself, felt strongly that we had no right to take an innocent life under any circumstances. We grappled with the decision knowing that we were responsible for the current situation and had vowed to resolve it one way or another. Although I was very much against taking the woman's life, I did feel that we needed to intervene in a substantial way."

He paused to take a sip from his goblet, giving Harry a moment to mull over the issue himself.

"Burke had told us that Merope planned to live as a Muggle, that Riddle did not even know she was a witch. Based on that information, a plan was proposed to rob her of her magical powers. While this did seem more palatable, many of my colleagues feared that it could not prevent the same scenario with future generations. Since, however, Merope intended to live as a Muggle and indeed Riddle did not even know of the existence of wizards, it seemed reasonable to believe that any children she had would also be raised as Muggles – or so I argued. But many did not agree."

"Still, the motion passed. While the other Alchemists set about brewing the necessary potion, I agreed to approach Riddle who was by this time her husband. He was shocked and utterly appalled to discover the truth about his wife. I believe that he would have left her if I had not offered him the opportunity to sap her of her magical powers. I handed him six vials. "Do not let her see these!' I was adamant. Other than that, it could not have been simpler. 'Just put it in her tea once a month when the moon is full for six consecutive months. After that she'll be a witch no longer.'" Dumbledore sighed and shook his head. "He never even asked me if it would harm her."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"In spite of all this, it seemed a fair solution and what was left of the King's Alchemists quickly came to the conclusion that they had successfully eliminated the Slytherin threat – the very threat they had helped create. Their work which had lasted for centuries was finally over."

For a moment the old wizard seemed lost in a troubling memory. The jewels in his rings glinted as he laid his hands distractedly on the desktop.

"For my part I knew it was a hollow victory but I did take a grim satisfaction in the knowledge that we had secured a better future for the wizarding world. At least until I came across an odd notice in London'a Muggle newspaper. You see, a young woman matching Merope's description had staggered into an orphanage on New Year's Eve. After giving birth to a boy which she named Tom Marvolo Riddle, she promptly died of an unknown malady. The orphanage sought her family to claim the infant."

"What happened?" Harry asked.

"That was precisely what I wanted to know," Dumbledore replied. "I could not understand how Merope had come to die alone on a cold night after giving birth to a child we knew nothing about. Yet I could not shake off the feeling that we were some how responsible. Looking for answers, I made my way back to the Tirion wizards only to discover that an even greater shock awaited me. All of my colleagues, save one, were dead."

"What?" gasped Harry. "They all died?"

An odd, bemused expression fixed upon the Headmaster's face. "Really, Harry, you ought to have been surprised that they were still living. All were extending their lives through artificial means and were more than a little weary of the world. Once they believed the Slytherin problem was resolved, they jointly decided to allow nature to take its course. Fenrick, the last of the Tirions, was soon to join them but not before he had confessed the truth. The potion I had given Riddle Sr. was not meant to destroy magical powers. It was, in truth, a slow-acting poison meant to kill Merope. A short time later Fenrick, too, was dead and I was left, last of my kind, to grapple with the knowledge that I had been responsible for an innocent woman's death."

Dumbledore's voice broke and he covered his face with his hands. He was clearly overcome with remorse, even now.

"But you didn't know it was poison," Harry interjected.

The old wizard dropped his hands. "Can you not see? I had no right to interfere in the first place. Because we thought we were stronger and cleverer than everyone else, we believed that we knew what was best, that we had all the answers. We thought we could do whatever we wanted."

He shook his head. "Now I had her son to think of. I went back to Riddle Sr. but he would hear nothing and trust nothing I said. Who could blame him after I had tricked him into poisoning his own wife? Merope, as it turned out, had discovered the poison and fled, sick and broken-hearted from the house, believing it was her husband who meant to kill her."

Dumbledore went on to say that although he felt responsible for the child he was reluctant to interfere any further. Tom Riddle remained at the Muggle orphanage until it was time for him to start at Hogwarts.

"I could have kept him out of school," he observed, "let him live out his life as a Muggle. But after much soul-searching, I decided it was best to try to correct the mistakes we had made with his mother. Alas, as soon as Tom Riddle, came to school all that the Tirions feared came to pass. Almost immediately he discovered his past and began seeking the power and might of his ancestors."

"And then he became Lord Voldemort," Harry supplied.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, the very scenario we feared for so long had finally come to pass. But now my fellow Tirions were no longer here to aid me. Realizing that I could not step back and allow wizarding kind to be destroyed, I renewed my vow that I would not rest until the last heir of Slytherin, Lord Voldemort, was vanquished from this earth."

Harry's head swam with all the information he had to take in. He hoped that Dumbledore would not question him on it because he was not at all sure how he felt about it. But one thin that was not lost on him was the tremendous amount of time that had spanned Dumbledore's story.

"Sir, you told me that other Tirion wizards used artificial means to extend their lives," he started tentatively.

"And you want to know if I've been doing the same thing after I've so often spoken out against Voldemort doing it – after I persuaded Nicholas Flamel to destroy his Sorceror's Stone?"

Harry flushed. "Well, yes."

"My oath to the wizarding world requires many sacrifices," he said pressing his fingertips together. You are young and surely a life in excess of a thousand years will not seem like much of a burden."

It was exactly what Harry thought.

"I want you to think about the recent loss you've endured and the pain it's caused you." He paused. "Now I want you to imagine what it would be like to outlive everyone that you have ever known."

"But, sir-"

"No, my existence is not an easy one but in my heart I know that whatever I must endure is worth the price if it brings the wizarding world a future free of Voldemort and his evil ways."


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47

"Not one of you gathered here this evening can possibly imagine the reality of my existence. All of you and all of your children and all of your children's children will pass from this earth while I remain unchanged and unchanging forever!" He pulled back his hood with a theatrical flourish, revealing his new features.

The Death Eaters gasped and Lord Voldemort ran a long finger over his now handsome face. Severus Snape had seen this display several times since the transformation but it never seemed to lose its effect, certainly not on the Dark Lord who reveled in his own narcissism nor on the Death Eaters who had elevated him to god-like status.

"They have called me conqueror of death!" cried Voldemort.

"And now they shall call you Master of Time," Bellatrix asserted from her place at his side.

Turning towards her, the Dark Lord ran the same long finger across her cheek. "Ah, yes, Bella, together we shall escape the ravages of time."

Until Bellatrix dies, thought Snape. You are hardly going to share that gift with her.

Another Death Eater snorted at the exchange and the Dark Lord turned sharply. Snape did not need to look. He knew full well who it was – the woman who struck fear into the very heart of him, the willowy Death Eater, Claudia the spy.

"Soon, my Lord, they shall call you king!" she exclaimed, bowing slightly.

The Dark Lord nodded at her, a slight smile playing on his lips. "Yes, my child, you speak the truth. And when that day comes you will be with me for you are a faithful servant who has served me well."

Bellatrix Lestrange shot daggers at the willowy Death Eater and Snape imagined her leering beneath her mask.

The Dark Lord addressed rumors that had been circulating about Harry Potter. "They call him the Chosen One. They believe that he has the power to defeat me. That famous fool at Hogwarts believes it. But I assure you there is no truth in it. The Potter boy will die as he should have 17 years ago. The old man won't be around to protect him forever."

As the meeting disintegrated into a celebration of Lord Voldemort's glory, Severus began to make his way out. Although he harbored little hope that he could avoid a confrontation with Claudia, he was making every effort to do so. Unfortunately, his instincts were correct and Claudia did indeed stop him.

"Not trying to avoid me, are you?"

Staring stonily, Snape said nothing and waited for her to continue.

"I think you are trying to avoid me, Severus, and I think I know why," she said harshly. "Bellatrix Lestrange."

He braced himself. He had never really believed in Dumbledore's plan to ignore Claudia and call her bluff, if indeed it was a bluff.

"I've no intention of settling your little power struggle with Bellatrix," he said silkily. "If anything, I'm inclined to report your treachery to the Dark Lord." Had he sounded convincing?

"Need I remind you that I have evidence against you? Evidence the Dark Lord would be very interested in."

"You have nothing! There is nothing!"

She stepped closer to him and Snape flinched reflexively. He hoped that she would not take her mask off again because he knew he could not trust himself if he saw that face again and much could be lost. When she was so close that their robes were touching, she pressed something into his hand.

"Are you so sure of that, Severus?" she whispered and with a small crack she disapparated.

Severus anxiously tightened his fist around the object and raised it to eye level. With an effort he opened his fingers to reveal a golden ring. He gasped. Every one of his fears about Claudia was confirmed. He had a pretty good idea to whom the ring had belonged.

The following day he met with Dumbledore in the castle, deserted now for the summer. He had much to report from his meeting with the Death Eaters and he needed guidance.

"Headmaster, I spoke to Lucius Malfoy," he told the old wizard. "The Ministry desires to take over the investigation of the Chamber. They claim it's their jurisdiction since a girl was killed there."

Dumbledore frowned. "Clever, very clever."

"Indeed. I suspect they will play it one of two ways. They'll either tell the public that Potter was involved and is now himself in danger. Or they'll say that Potter was responsible and is now a danger to others. Either way the Ministry locks him up and …"

"Eventually Voldemort gets the key," Dumbledore supplied dourly.

Snape looked morose. "Probably sooner than later. Sir, I don't know how long you can delay an investigation given the circumstances."

Leaning back, Dumbledore stroked his silver beard thoughtfully. "It may be possible," he mused. Reaching into his desk, he handed Severus a small book. "We found this hidden within the Chamber."

Snape leafed through it. He quickly gleaned that it was Ginny Weasley's diary for a span of several years.

"I don't know how it helps us. It is merely the rambling of a seriously disturbed girl."

"You will note, Severus, that she implicates both Lucius Malfoy and our current Minister of Magic in the last opening of the Chamber and basilisk attacks."

"Miss Weasley was obviously very disturbed, sir. Are we supposed to believe that Percy Weasley sold out his sister to Lucius Malfoy? For what purpose?"

"Power, Severus. Where's Percy Weasley now? Malfoy promised him connections he could never have made, a future he could only have dreamt of. And I doubt young Percy had any idea of what he was getting into. Malfoy is certainly not above using deception to achieve his goals. Remember at that point most believed Voldemort was dead. If Percy sold his soul, it was to Lucius and the Ministry, not to Voldemort."

Snape pulled thoughtfully on a greasy tendril. "Even if it is true, we have no proof of it. Nothing to prevent the Ministry from barging into Hogwarts."

"Within the Slytherin statue we discovered a cache of correspondence between Lucius and the current Minister of Magic. It is rather damning."

Snape did not believe it. "Evidence can be faked," he reasoned. "And why would Ginny Weasley have evidence and not come forward?"

"Exactly!" Dumbledore exclaimed. "She didn't have it. So how did it get into Slytherin's statue? Someone else must have planted it." His brow wrinkled. "I've not been able to piece this together nor verify any of it but I think you'll find that a hint to Lucius Malfoy that something of his was found will stall the Ministry investigation. At least for a while."

While Snape had little interest in the relationship between Malfoy and Weasley he was glad to do anything to halt the corrupt Ministry from getting into that chamber. With that situation resolved he braced himself for the unsettling topic of Claudia Moody. He only hoped the Headmaster would be more open to his concerns this time.

"Sir, I believe that my hand is being forced by Claudia Moody. I fear that I shall have to do as she wishes or risk everything falling to pieces."

"Severus, we have already discussed this," Dumbledore began dismissively. "I have already told you-"

"No!" Snape bellowed angrily. He was not going to be put off again. Dumbledore had not seen her or heard her threats. "She knows what happened that night or enough of it. I'm certain of it."

Apparently cowed by Snape's tone, the old wizard sat back in his chair and placed his fingertips together. "Very well, Severus. Tell me why you think this is so."

Wordlessly, Snape placed the ring on the Headmaster's desk. Dumbledore's eyes widened. He picked it up somberly and turned it in his hand, a pained expression on his face. Snape looked away, uncomfortable with Dumbledore's obvious emotion.

"I remember when Alastor bought this ring," he sighed. "I remember the very day."

Severus shuddered. He clenched his hands on the chair's arm rests.

Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon glasses. "This is Claudia Moody's wedding ring as I'm sure you surmised. I think you are correct. We can no longer follow a course of inactivity."

"I shall make an attempt on Bellatrix Lestrange, Headmaster, but she is a worthy adversary. You must prepare yourself for the possibility of losing your informant."

"And my best advisor." Dumbledore smiled faintly. "No, Severus, it is not Bellatrix we need to eliminate. It is the Death Eater who is impersonating Claudia. She is the more dangerous one. If you do her bidding you risk turning her into Voldemort's top Death Eater and she'll betray you when you no longer suit her needs."

"But if I kill her, the evidence against me will still be made known to the Dark Lord," he reminded him. "If he finds out that I've betrayed him, all is lost. He will discover the entire plan."

"There may be a way out of it," the old wizard advised. "But it will not be easy for you must play both Bellatrix Lestrange and the imposter Claudia. You must begin by discrediting the spy. Her ambition is her Achilles'' heel. Start whispers about it. Speculate that she wants to overthrow the Dark Lord. Mention her interest in achieving immortality. Play it up especially to Bellatrix. Prey on her insecurities. Hint that Voldemort favors her. It will not take much to push Bellatrix into a confrontation which will be fatal for one of them."

Snape nodded. "And whichever one is left will have to answer to the Dark Lord who will have heard the rumors about Claudia's ambitions. He'll reward Bellatrix if he thinks she eliminated an enemy angling for his own position but if Bellatrix is killed and the Dark Lord perceives it as a means of advancing her own campaign, he will not take kindly to that. In fact, he'll personally kill this Claudia Moody."

Dumbledore nodded. His informant had grasped the basics of the plan.

"It could work," Snape mused, "but it must be done delicately. Bellatrix is a force to be reckoned with and Claudia's as crafty as they come."

"Yes, Severus, you must walk a fine line. If you err slightly on either side, it will unravel."

Snape tugged at his greasy hair. "But there is still the question of evidence…"

Now Dumbledore looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Yes, though you will have discredited this imposter, there is still one thing you must do to ensure success."

"What is that, sir?"

Reaching over, Dumbledore unlatched the door to a cabinet, revealing his Pensieve. "We must remove the memory of that night from your mind."

Had Severus heard Dumbledore correctly? He leapt to his feet. "Absolutely not! How can you ask such a thing? You know well the meaning that night has for me."

"It's only temporary, Severus. The problem is that no matter how well we paint this spy as a ruthless rival to Voldemort we have no chance of convincing anyone that all her evidence is false. Not when it's still so clearly in your own head. If the Dark Lord employs Legilimency, I don't think you'll be able to block these particular memories."

"I do not care," Snape protested. His eyes became wild. "That is the night I changed. The night I swore to protect her. How can you take that away from me? You ask too much!"

Dumbledore clasped his shoulder. His eyes were full of sympathy. "Do not think that I ask this lightly. I would not ask if we had any other choice. Here it shall stay, safe in my Penseive until this business with Claudia is over."

Severus pulled away sharply. How could he deny Dumbledore? He closed his eyes. "Any decent part of me is tied to that memory. I cannot do this."

The old wizard surveyed him silently. He seemed uncertain how to proceed until his eyes fell once more upon the ring. He rounded upon Snape and his eyes glinted angrily.

"We all have to do things we don't like, Severus. I don't like having to sit across the table from my best friend and pretend that I have no idea who murdered his wife."

The room was suddenly electric and Snape's face turned ashen in response to the rebuke. Chastened, he reluctantly agreed to the plan.

"It need not be right away. We'll wait until it's necessary and you are ready." With a sigh, Albus Dumbledore picked up the gold ring and stowed it in his massive desk. "You are doing the right thing, Severus. We can't do anything to jeopardize the plan – not when it's so close to completion."

With an effort, Severus collected himself and retook his seat. Ultimately this was what was most important, vanquishing the Dark Lord and protecting the last of Lily's relations.

"In regard to that, Headmaster, do you still believe Potter can survive?"

"I have to believe it, Severus. You know I think of little else. Still, we cannot pretend that he is not in grave danger and will continue to be so. This connection to Voldemort complicates things." He sighed. "Ours is an elaborate but necessary deception. Let us hope that he does not suffer because of it."

"Maybe it is time to tell the boy the truth."

"Alas, nothing would be more dangerous. Harry, along with the rest of the Order, must whole-heartedly believe that he is the one with the power to defeat the Dark Lord. Only then can we protect the true Chosen One."

"And Longbottom, will he be ready?"

"I have been working with him all year. He is not ready yet but I believe he will be soon. There is some resentment on his part but he will do his duty when it comes to it. The Longbottoms are used to sacrifice though it can not be easy for them."

"And is there any chance that he may yet live?"

"I'm afraid that is very unlikely." A stricken looked crossed his features and he put his head in his hands. "Curse that prophecy! It has bound these poor boys to a monster. If only it had never been made."

"If only," Snape repeated in his own mind. "If only."


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48

Dear Tonks – No, that was too unfamiliar. He scribbled it out. Dear Nymphadora – No, he could not write that either. It conveyed an intimacy they no longer shared. Finally, he crumpled up the parchment and threw it dejectedly in the corner. It had become his late night ritual, answering Nymphadora Tonks' letters. The only problem was that he never got past the first line.

Remus Lupin rubbed his eyes and set down his quill. On the edge of his desk was a stack of letters the gist of which were all the same. "Please, Remus, let's meet. Give me a chance to explain myself. Just let me talk to you. I miss you." The tone had become increasingly desperate each letter and every night Remus would sit down and attempt to draft a response. But it was an impossible task, impossible because he was unable to sort out his feelings for Tonks.

The truth was that he did want to see her, wanted things to go back to the way they were. But he knew they could not. Tonks had been involved in Ginny Weasley's death. Dumbledore confirmed it. He told Lupin that she had supplied Ginny with potions and ingredients that had left her mind fertile to Voldemort. She had also withheld vital information and been caught in several lies. Dumbledore even suggested that she could be further implicated in the affair. Two days later she had resigned from the Order and was forced to give up her position in the Ministry pending several counts of obtaining potions for minors. Tonks was ruined, disgraced.

How can I abandon her? Remus asked himself. I love her. He had fallen in love with her the night of the Ministerial Gala, the night she had been shunned just for being seen with him. The woman who had blushingly asked him to the Gala could not possibly have done what she now stood accused of. Maybe some day, after the war perhaps, things would be different. But for now it's best I not see her, he resolved. He could not trust himself around her and, as much as it pained him to admit it, he could not trust her. Besides, how could he possibly face the Weasleys or even Harry is he continued seeing her. No, it's best to let things alone; he concluded and got up from the desk.

He was about to prepare for bed when he was startled by a knock at the door. Lupin frowned. It was 3:15 AM – not a time for social calls. What has happened? He wondered fearfully.

Opening the door, he found Severus Snape wide awake and dressed as if it were still noon time. Snape stalked in and folded his arms.

Remus was at a loss. "How are you?" he asked tentatively.

Severus scowled at him. "Will you be visiting Potter this summer at his aunt's residence?"

"Of course."

"Then will you speak to Petunia Dursley about the protection on her family?"

The last thing Lupin wanted to do was approach that woman. "I'm not really the best candidate for that," he advised. "Petunia despises me. She won't even let me in the house."

"But if you insisted …"

Lupin shook his head doubtfully. "I think Dumbledore's going to have to do this one himself. I'll speak to him tomorrow."

"Er, no," Snape answered looking rather uncomfortable. "The Headmaster did not send me to ask you. He feels that the Dursleys are already adequately prepared."

Lupin looked blank and Snape's scowl deepened.

"It is a personal request," he mumbled.

A personal request? Remus looked hard at the Potions Master searching for a flicker of something he fancied he had seen long ago. Snape met his gaze briefly before turning his black eyes away.

"I'll do my best," Remus told him sincerely and Severus lingered wordlessly before striding back out into the corridors.

Meanwhile back at Privet Drive, Harry Potter was face to face with the reality of Uncle Vernon's death. While he had often wondered how his aunt and cousin were getting on, nothing could have prepared him for how different things were. Harry could scarcely believe that this was the same residence he had just left nine months ago. The grass was overgrown, the shrubbery untrimmed. What used to be a garden was nothing but a patch of weeds growing wildly. Every window was shut, every blind drawn.

Inside the house was scarcely better. Although it was kept up as well as ever, Harry noticed several alterations had been made. The windows were all barred and locked. All doors were now double, even triple bolted and the walls were lined with bottles of water and canned goods. In short, Privet Drive had been turned into a bunker.

Apart from her obvious paranoia, Aunt Petunia seemed relatively unchanged. She seemed to be taking Uncle Vernon's death well. Better, in fact, than Harry had expected. Dudley, on the other hand, was in the deepest of depressions. He had become a permanent fixture on the sitting room couch, getting up only for meals and bed. Physically he had changed too. His clothes seemed to hang off him as if he had suddenly lost weight – something none of his mother's diets had managed to accomplish. His muscles had melted and his face had an odd, pinched look to it. The few times he spoke it was flat and toneless.

Now whether this change in Dudley was due to the loss of his father or his current circumstances was difficult to judge. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were virtually prisoners in their own home. Dudley was absolutely forbidden to step outside the house and Petunia had apparently not left it since her husband had died. The door was barred to all visitors, which meant no mail, no milkman, no human contact of any sort. Inside Aunt Petunia patrolled the halls fretting over any unidentified sound or unusual sight, stopping only to open a jar of peanut butter or can of stew.

Harry felt terrible. Things would never have come to this if Dumbledore had not left him there as an infant. It was no wonder Aunt Petunia was terrified after what had happened to Uncle Vernon. Still, she was going rather overboard. None of her Muggle devices was going to keep her safe from Voldemort. He tried to reason with her but it only made things worse.

"I think it would be alright to let the grocer in," he advised her. "Having some fresh food would make everyone feel a bit better."

Petunia merely regarded him sourly and Harry frowned at a dwindling supply of canned peaches.

"Aunt Petunia, I have a wand and I've had some defensive training. I can handle myself. Why don't I let the grocer in? You and Dudley could go and stay upstairs. I'm sure that would be okay. After all, we're supposed to be safe in the house."

Aunt Petunia stiffened and her eyes flashed wildly. "Safe! You think we're safe? If they got to him, they can get to anyone?"

"Uncle Vernon?" Harry was confused.

"I'm not talking about Vernon," she snapped. "I'm talking about Sirius Black. If they took him down- "

"Sirius?" Harry repeated. He did not see what his godfather had to do with any of this.

"He was so strong," Aunt Petunia moaned. "So strong. If they got to him they can get to anyone." She looked desperate and Harry had to question whether she even knew what she was saying.

"But, Aunt Petunia, Sirius wasn't-"

She turned her head back sharply and her eyes were round as saucers. "How dare you? How dare you mention the name of that traitorous man in my house?"

Harry's jaw dropped. You brought him up, he thought to himself. He sighed. Clearly his aunt was beyond all reason. The best thing he could do was to follow her rules and not add any extra stress upon her. At least he and Dudley would be going back to school at the end of the break.

Harry was just getting up to leave when there was a sudden knock at the door. Petunia turned absolutely white and the teacup she was holding smashed to the ground.

"Dudley!" she cried. "Get upstairs! Hurry!"

Dudley glanced over indifferently and shuffled up the steps. More knocking. Aunt Petunia was beside herself. She pointed to Harry.

"And you – you get upstairs!"

Harry had no intention of following his Muggle cousin and the knocking continued.

"Petunia, it's alright. It's Remus Lupin. I need to speak to you," a voice called from the other side of the door.

Harry relaxed. Now maybe his aunt would calm down a bit. He was wrong.

"Get away!" she screamed. "Get away from this house!"

"Petunia, please. I just need a word."

"I don't want to see you, Remus. Not now, not ever. I want you off our property."

Harry peeked through the blinds. Professor Lupin had his wand out and seemed to be debating whether or not to use Alohamorra.

"No, no!" he called to Lupin with alarm. The worst thing he could do now was show Aunt Petunia how easy it would be for a wizard to get into the house. "I'm coming out. Just a minute."

He turned back to his aunt who was panting on the steps. "I'm just going to go out and see him. Why don't you go upstairs with Dudley?"

She narrowed her eyes at him but did not protest and Harry stepped out into the sunlight. He could hear the door being bolted behind him.

"I'm sorry about that, Professor. It's been pretty crazy here. What did you need to speak to her about?"

Lupin cast a mournful glance at the house. "I just wanted to make sure she knew that you were all safe in the house. Evidently she does."

Harry explained how things were going while Lupin listened, appearing more and more disturbed.

"She's just scared, Harry," he sighed. "Maybe I should have rang first."

"We're not on the phone. She thinks wizards can send magic through the lines."

"Really?" Lupin shook his head at the absurdity of it all.

"Honestly, Professor, I think she's gone round the bend. I thought she'd be really upset about Uncle Vernon but she keeps rambling on about Sirius."

Lupin's brow furrowed. "Sirius? What's she say about him?"

Harry gave Lupin a sampling of her ravings. "What is it with her and my godfather?" he asked.

Lupin made a face. "Well, they did have some history."

"History?" Harry was confused. "You mean like they dated?"

"Yes, actually." The words seemed almost to stick in Lupin's throat.

"Really? Well, tell me about it, Professor. What happened?" Harry asked excitedly.

Lupin looked down at his hands. He seemed to hesitate. "I'm sure your aunt would rather you not know of it but given the circumstances.."

Harry waited while Lupin stretched his legs out on the curb.

"Your godfather was a good man, Harry, a great man but I am afraid he was also a bit of a playboy."

Harry grinned. "I know. He told me all about the girls at school. How they were all lining up for a date with Sirius."

Lupin smiled faintly. "Yes, that sounds like him. And it may seem funny now but it wasn't then, especially to the girls he convinced he cared about them. I'm afraid your aunt was in that category." He paused. "Your Aunt Petunia had a huge crush on Sirius and, while Sirius liked the attention, he never really returned those feelings. It was a bit of a joke really."

Harry frowned. It seemed like a mean joke.

"But once your mother and father started getting serious things began to change for us. Your parents wanted to spend their free time together and Sirius couldn't stand it. He started going out with Petunia just so he could double with James and Lily. And, since Petunia did not attend Hogwarts, it left Sirius free to pursue other girls during the week."

"That's awful," said Harry. "Did you guys know?"

"We did," Lupin replied looking remorseful. "Lily didn't, of course. She would never have put up with it but James did and so did I. James thought it was a bit of a lark. And I, well I should have told Petunia or Lily at least. I just didn't think it was my place or maybe I just didn't want to lose my friends. Perhaps I half-believed that Sirius was developing real feelings for your aunt." He shook his head. "At any rate, I kept silent and Sirius continued seeing Petunia. In fact it got serious, or seemed to. James and Lily began to discuss marriage and Sirius and Petunia started making their own plans. Petunia planned to come and live in the wizarding community. She wanted a double wedding with her sister."

"So what happened?"

"What was inevitable. Your aunt found out that Sirius was cheating on her many times over and realized that he never had any intention of marrying her. She was both devastated and humiliated. What's worse, she blamed your mother for the whole thing."

"She thought my mother knew?"

"I think she thought we all knew. You see, your aunt always felt like an outsider among us wizards so it was no stretch for her to think that we had all conspired against her. She left the school in tears and severed all ties to her sister. A short time later we heard she had married your uncle."

"That quickly?" Harry was perplexed. "Did she even love Uncle Vernon?"

"I assume so. She married him."

Harry's mind filled up with a dozen interactions between his aunt and uncle and he tried to reconcile it with what he had just heard. "I don't think she did. I don't think she ever did."

Lupin failed to contradict him. He seemed suddenly pensive. "If she ever intended to reconcile with your mother, she soon lost the opportunity when Voldemort struck. Now as for Sirius, I'm sure she already hated him for what he did to her but when he was implicated in your parents' murders … Well, I can only imagine how she felt."

No one said anything at first but then Lupin tried to strike up a friendly conversation. Neither one felt up to small talk, however. All they could do was stare up at the darkened house and wonder if things could have been any different. When Harry finally made his way back into the house, his aunt was dozing in a chair by the door, exhausted, perhaps, by her constant patrolling.

"Good night, Aunt Petunia," he called on his way up the stairs.

"Good night, Harry," she muttered back sleepily.

Harry stopped dead. It was the first time she'd ever used his name. He turned to see her but she was fast asleep at her post. Passing his own bedroom, he stepped into Aunt Petunia's. There it was, half-hidden on her bedside table; the picture of Sirius Lupin had given him last year. He had not lost it. She had taken it. So it was true. Everything Lupin had said was true – except the part that he did not know, could not even have suspected. Petunia Dursley did not hate Sirius Black. In spite of everything, she was still in love with him.


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49

Severus Snape gazed into a cauldron and saw his face reflected back at him in the shimmering potion. The effect was not unlike looking into a Penseive and the Potions Master was reminded of his promise to Dumbledore.

As he stared at his reflection, he had to wonder if removing his memory, even temporarily, would change him. For the night in question had altered him completely. It was the night he had committed his worst act yet it had also been his finest hour. What he had been and what he had become were irrevocably tied to that memory. It was a recollection that he both cherished and abhorred. What would it be like to suddenly lose the most significant night of his life? The potion swirled in his cauldron, blurring his reflection while Severus' mind raced back once more to that night and he saw it as clearly as if he were viewing it in the Penseive.

Severus Snape stumbled back among his team of Death Eaters, weak from the Cruciatus Curse he had just received from his master. Someone pulled a chair out for him.

"Was the Dark Lord very angry?" she asked anxiously.

"Of course he was angry," Severus replied bitterly. "We failed him. I failed him."

"But things were going well until Moody showed up."

"Moody!" Snape exclaimed venomously. "He's taken down more of us than the rest of the Aurors combined and we can't even touch him! What I wouldn't give to see him taken down."

"If you can't do it, Severus, surely there's no one who can," another Death Eater offered.

Severus grinned maliciously and his black eyes glinted. The subject of Moody's recent marriage soon came up. It had been a rumor at that point. No one seriously believed that weather-beaten, tough-as-nails Moody had taken a wife.

"I've seen her," one of the Death Eaters informed them. "She's practically a child and a Muggle at that."

"A filthy Muggle!" Severus snarled. How was it possible to be bested by a blood traitor? He would not allow it. "Are you certain of your facts?"

He nodded eagerly. "They live up in Moody's cottage by the lake."

Severus drew out his wand, anxious to put its power to use. "I've just figured out how to get at this thorn in our sides." He brandished his wand menacingly. "I think we should pay a social call on the new Mrs. Moody."

Driven by a thirst for revenge, the six Death Eaters grabbed their masks and immediately set out for the Moody residence. Although he did not mention it to the others, Severus had some reservations that they would be unable to break into the Auror's well-protected house. To his surprise, however, Claudia Moody opened the front door to them.

Snape raised his eyebrows under his mask, taken aback by her appearance. She was young, very young, and surprisingly attractive with long golden hair. What she saw in Moody's scarred face was anyone's guess. Although she was smiling when she opened the door, her eyes grew wide with fright at the sight of Snape and his cohorts at the door.

Claudia stumbled backward and threw her hands up defensively. At the height of his powers, Severus Snape made a menacing sight. The other Death Eaters jeered. Claudia looked weak and vulnerable and Severus felt a wide rush of excitement. With a flick of his wand he propelled her through the hall until she slammed into a well and crumpled to the floor.

Severus glided after her with the others following. They were mocking her. They would have their fun tonight but everyone knew. It was understood. Claudia Moody belonged to Severus Snape.

The woman raised herself up. There was a look of absolute astonishment on her face as if she had had no prior knowledge of what a Dark Wizard was capable of.

I have complete control over her, he thought with relish. It was the same thought he had every time he tormented someone – the weaker the better. But the fact that this was Alastor Moody's new bride made his heart thump with excitement and a kind of blood lust. His wand was up again, pointed at the figure before him.

Claudia cowered. "Please don't hurt me," she implored. "Please!"

"You Muggles always beg," Snape spat disdainfully. "Ignorant fools! Any wizard would know I have no mercy!"

She pulled into herself, crying softly. With another flick of his wand he cut several gashes on her face. Blood streamed through her hair.

"Alastor," she moaned. "Help me, please."

At the sound of Moody's name, Severus lost all control. "Crucio!" he bellowed and fell into a hatred-filled euphoria. He became vaguely aware that another witch had come down the stairs and was dueling with the other Death Eaters but he could not take his attention off of torturing this Muggle. He would release the curse just before the strain on her body became fatal only to cast it again when she started to catch her breath. Seldom had he felt so alive, so powerful and so deeply satisfied. Never had he tortured anyone for so long. He laughed at her screams, her pleas for help until finally her neck snapped and she fell dead to the floor.

Sauntering over to the body, Snape kicked it over. Would Moody know how much she had suffered? She was bloody and bruised. Her face was unrecognizable. He smiled. Moody would know just what his young bride had endured.

Severus then became aware of the fray in the next room. It, too, was nearly over. The other witch was gravely injured and the Death Eaters were closing in on her. It would not be long, he reasoned, until the Aurors showed up. He would have to finish this now. Striding across the room, he prepared the killing curse.

"You monsters won't get away with this," the witch cried out. "When Moody and the Order find out what happened, they will not rest until you're brought to justice!" Her words were spirited but her voice was weak and strained.

Severus stopped short and his mouth went suddenly dry. He knew that voice, though he had not heard it in a long time, not since his days at Hogwarts. Much had passed since then. He had joined the Dark Lord and she had married James Potter.

Lily! Lily Evans! He could barely breathe. He had tried so hard to forget her only to encounter her here and have to be the one to kill her. Tightening his grip on his wand, Severus stepped forward to get a clear view of Lily who looked injured and vulnerable, helpless really, before him.

He closed his eyes tightly. "Avada Kedavra!" he screamed and his wand seemed to vibrate more than it ever had. There was an extraordinary flash and a great gasp. When he opened his eyes he saw to his horror that his intent had not been true. He had not killed Lily. He had killed the five Death Eaters threatening her, his own team. Severus stared at his wand. Had it suddenly betrayed him? Never had he cast a curse of such magnitude and never had it gone so very wrong.

Lily sputtered on the floor as the Dark wizard tried desperately to collect himself. No matter, he thought. It was a foolish emotional reaction at seeing her again. This time the curse would be true. It would have to be. Severus could not go back to the Dark Lord and explain how he had lost five of his best Death Eaters on an unauthorized Muggle killing. He fingered his wand while Lily looked up warily, trying to figure out what was going on.

He was sweating beneath his mask, trying to steel himself when she said it.

"Severus? Severus Snape?"

The air was suddenly sucked from the room. He groaned inwardly. His wand had betrayed him. She had recognized it, knew it from their lessons together when they were both at school. Instinctively Severus pulled off his mask so they could see each other, frozen, transfixed. He wanted to be the one to break the silence, knew that he had to be. Yet he could not utter a word.

"Severus," she finally whispered. "No, it can't be true." Her voice was filled with pity and it cut into Snape like a knife. Still, he was unable to respond.

"I wondered what happened to you after you left school but I never thought that you had become a Death Eater."

He hated the way she sounded so sad, so disappointed.

"Oh, Severus," she moaned.

"No!" he broke in harshly, finally finding his voice. He did not want this from her. He needed her anger and her hatred to do what he needed to do. But this pity …

Lily struggled to peer into the next room where Claudia's broken body lay. "What's happened to you?" she demanded as her eyes pooled with tears.

Severus followed her gaze. An icy fist squeezed his heart as he looked upon what he had done. Once he had believed that he would become so villainous that his heart would be hardened even to Lily but now he realized that he had been deceiving himself. Through her eyes he saw plainly what he had become – a murderer, a torturer of women and children. He fell to his knees beside Lily. Never before had he felt any remorse for his crimes but suddenly he was ashamed, appalled at what he had made of his life. He looked upon Claudia's body. He had never hated himself more.

Pressing his wand into Lily's hand, he raised it to his temple. "Do it! I do not think that one such as yourself can even imagine how many crimes I've committed nor how much I deserve this."

"No, Severus," she said as the tears streamed down her face. "I won't do it. I know there is some good left in you. You saved my life."

It was not true, he told himself. There wasn't anything decent left in Severus Snape, if indeed there ever had been anything. Still, he released her hand. She was in obvious pain from her injuries.

"Lily." He lifted her head and cradled it in his lap, stroking her hair as he had once before. At least he would have this moment with her before the Aurors came and took him away.

Soon they became aware of voices outside getting nearer.

Lily looked up at him intently. "Run, Severus! No one will ever know you were here if you go now. Hurry!"

He stared at her, held her a little tighter.

Her tone became insistent, almost desperate. "Please, Severus, just go! I'll never tell them! Run!"

She was letting him go. Overcome with emotion, Severus bent over her so that their faces were very close. He stroked her face gently. "You are the one thing in this world worth saving. As despicable as I am, you are good. For as monstrous as I've become, you are only more beautiful"

"Please, Severus. They are coming."

He put a finger to her lips. "Lily Evans-"

"It's Potter," she reminded him gently.

With a grim pang he amended himself. "Lily Potter, know that from this day forward I am your protector. Whatever else may happen in this war, know that I am with you. I shall keep you safe, even if all other things fail. This I swear to you for as long as I have strength left in my body."

He pressed his lips to hers briefly and fled through the back just as the Aurors were bursting through the front door. He was nearly in the woods when he heard it – a cry on the night air. A cry so full of anguish as to be nearly unrecognizable.

"Claudia! Claudia!"

He went to Dumbledore the very next day and told him his story. Not because Severus wanted to join him or even believed in his cause but because he knew it was his best chance at protecting Lily. Dumbledore accepted his story and put him to work as a spy for the Order. It was dangerous work and through it Snape began to hope that he could be redeemed. Dumbledore fostered this hope and through him Snape found the strength to forsake the Dark Arts entirely.

But all was shattered that terrible Halloween night when Lily was murdered. Despondent that he had failed to protect her, Severus contemplated suicide. Again it was Dumbledore who pulled him from the abyss, reminding him of his duty to Lily and those that were left behind. And so he would spend his days – remembering her ways and protecting the few that remained of her family.

Forcing himself out of his reverie, Severus attended to a cauldron that was threatening to boil over. Although he often complained that he had too many potions to brew, the concentration the act required was welcome. It forced him to focus his mind on the present. After adjusting the flame, Severus reached for more gillyweed only to be interrupted by an urgent summons. Dumbledore's patronus had just come through the door. Something was wrong at Privet Drive.


	50. Chapter 50

**Author's Note: I have been trying to post this since Friday but the system wouldn't let me upload. I apologize, you know how the system can be and there were problems posted. Ah well, I shall be on time next time not this Friday but next.**

Chapter 50

"Where is that boy?" Petunia Dursley muttered, glancing anxiously out the window.

It unnerved her having her nephew out of the house even if it was just to Mrs. Figg's house to meet a classmate. Nonetheless, she had not tried to prevent him from going. Gone were the days when she could hide him under the staircase and pretend that he was a Muggle. He was grown now and a trained wizard. He knew the risks.

It was for her own son now that Petunia had the worst fears. Neither she nor Dudley had any means of protecting themselves but to remain in the house. Worse yet, the charm protecting them was rooted in her and her sister's blood. If anything happened to Petunia, Dudley would not even be safe in their home and she doubted Dumbledore and his lot would come running to his aid they way they would for Harry Potter.

Petunia rubbed her temples. She had yet another headache, a combination of stress and that god-awful music Dudley was blaring from his bedroom. She should go in there and tell him to turn it down and last summer she would have, or Vernon would have, but now she could not bring herself to make any more demands on him than she already had.

Amid all the noise Petunia fancied she heard the backdoor click shut. She heaved a sigh of relief. Her nephew was back. She had gotten them through another day. But when she went downstairs she could not find Harry anywhere. Obviously he had not come in. Reprimanding herself for being so jumpy, Petunia headed back upstairs to pour a drink and contemplate how things had gotten so bad.

It all came down to 16 years ago when she had agreed to take in her nephew. She had not really wanted to do so of course, even after hearing about her sister's murder, especially after hearing about her sister's murder. After all, she had her own family to think of and they knew nothing about the wizarding world or her severed connections to it. Besides, no matter what Dumbledore said, Petunia knew instinctively that taking in the baby would be dangerous. Still, she took him in amid assurances that she and her family would be kept safe.

The last thing she wanted was for him to go to Hogwarts but when it came down to it she ended up with no say in the matter. Unbeknownst to her, Dumbledore had intended all along that Harry be trained as a wizard. With her nephew back in the magical community, Petunia became more and more fearful that she and Vernon would end up just like her sister and James. There Harry was surrounded by the likes of Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Peter Pettigrew and that repulsive greasy-haired man that her sister once knew. And Petunia could never quite keep track of just who had betrayed whom, save for that one personal betrayal she had endured long ago.

Petunia crossed back over to the window but she could make out nothing past the pools of light from the street lamps. She was about to turn away when she caught sight of something that made her breath catch in her throat. There on her front lawn were two tiny lights shining in the darkness. Magic wands – they had to be and it was unlike her nephew to use magic in the street. Someone else was out there.

Petunia's body tensed with fear and she started towards her son's room before calming herself. They were safe so long as they remained in the house she reminded herself. But what about Harry? He was already out there and it was far more likely that the wizards would be looking for him anyway.

I have to contact Dumbledore, she decided. But would he make it in time?

Petunia peered out the window again and saw the light from one of the wands suddenly lengthen. She could now make out two figures. One was clearly trying to subdue the other.

"Oh my God! Harry!" she cried.

Help would never arrive in time. Petunia's eyes stung with tears. All these years she had tried to protect him only to lose him now when he was nearly ready to stand on his own. But something did not look quite right. Harry was much thinner than this figure. The light intensified again and Petunia screamed in horror. Now she could clearly identify who was struggling. It was her own son, Dudley, wearing the very polo shirt Vernon had given him last Christmas. With a pang she remembered the sound of the backdoor that she had ignored. It must have been Dudley sneaking out.

Determined to do something, Petunia raced downstairs and grabbed a broom from the kitchen. Recognizing it to be useless, she rifled around for something Dumbledore had given her long ago. When she finally found it, she threw open the door with her heart pounding wildly in her chest.

"Dudley! I'm here, son! Mummy's here!"

But Dudley did not seem relieved to see her. In fact he laughed and it was a cold laugh, quite unlike her son's. This was not Dudley Dursley. Realizing immediately that she had been duped, Petunia turned and made a break for the house but it was too late. Both wizards were able to get a spell off and Petunia tumbled to the ground gravely injured. She was bleeding badly from innumerable wounds and it felt as if her very life were seeping out of her.

I'm going to die, she realized. Right here on my front lawn.

The two wizards were jubilant.

"Her blood has been spilt!" one of the cried triumphantly. "The charm is broken."

"We've got you now, Potter," the other wizard exclaimed leveling his wand at the house.

"No!" Petunia gasped. With a last desperate thought to save her family she thrust out her hand still clutching the artifact she had taken from the house.

There was a sound of an explosion, two great lights and flames. Petunia discerned that her attackers had slumped to the ground just before she lapsed into unconsciousness.

Harry heard the explosion from Mrs. Figg's house.

"Aunt Petunia!" he cried jumping to his feet.

Hermione's eyes grew very wide. "What do we do?"

"Come on!" Harry urged grabbing her arm. "We have to help them!"

Hermione pulled out her wand and they raced out of the house. The street was completely dark and the Dursleys' house was lost in a wall of smoke.

"Voldemort and his Death Eaters," Harry lamented. "It's Uncle Vernon all over again."

Hermione looked terrified but her tone was fairly calm. "Let's not panic. I'm sure Dumbledore is monitoring the house. He's not going to let anything happen to them."

Harry bit his lip. He had once believed as Hermione did but after his experiences with the Headmaster this year, he had a sick feeling that Dumbledore would let quite a bit happen as long as he felt that Harry was safe. But Harry himself refused to let his relatives stand alone and defenseless. He tried to plunge into the smoke but to his surprise found that he was unable to. It was solid and he could not pass.

"It's a spell," Hermione explained. "It's meant to keep out Muggles and enemies."

"Can you get us through?"

"Yes, I think so," she answered, eying the smoke warily. "Only I'm not sure if it's a good idea. We don't know who cast it."

"Hermione! Just get us through!"

He held onto her hand as she used her wand to cut her way through the smoke wall. They were unprepared for the scene before them. Harry gasped. The house was a smoldering ruin. It looked as if it had been hit by a shell.

Remus Lupin was already on the scene feverishly digging through the rubble. He was covered with ash and his hands were bloody and burned but he searched desperately. "Harry! Dudley!"

Several yards in front of the house lay two unconscious wizards, one wearing a familiar polo shirt. But strangest of all was the figure of Severus Snape kneeling on the ground cradling Petunia's bloodied head on his lap.

"Aunt Petunia!" Harry cried running towards them but he was intercepted by a frantic Dumbledore who threw his arms about the boy.

"Harry!" he cried with obvious relief. "You cannot know how happy I am to find you safe and sound. We feared the worst, the very worst. Dare I hope that your cousin is with you?"

Harry shook his head. "No, just Hermione."

Dumbledore closed his eyes. "Alas, we feared as much." He called out to Lupin that Harry had not been in the house and was safely with them.

Turning slightly to acknowledge the news, Lupin continued his desperate search. "Dudley!" he cried frantically. "Dudley!"

It was futile. Anyone could see that if Dudley was in the house, he was certainly dead but Lupin, now accompanied by Hermione, continued the grim search.

Harry felt ill. He wandered over to his aunt who was also clearly beyond saving. He heard her gasp out something inaudible and watched as his most hated teacher wiped her brow.

"No," he told her soothingly. "You have not failed. You have done brilliantly."

Snape's tone and manner were so out of character that Harry felt almost as if he were dreaming. He stopped short, unwilling to come any closer because it seemed somehow as if he were intruding upon the pair.

Petunia clutched Snape's arm and looked up at him searchingly. "My – my son, Dudley," she struggled to say. "And Harry – are they – are they alright?"

Snape glanced at Harry impassively and then looked over at Lupin who had cast himself down despondently upon the curb with Hermione beside him, too exhausted to go on. Lupin met Snape's eyes and shook his head grimly.

Swaying, Harry suppressed a cry. The reality of the news was overwhelming. Dumbledore clasped his shoulder tightly but Harry found no comfort in it. He squeezed his eyes shut, unable to bear the look upon his aunt's face when she heard that her son was dead.

Apparently, Snape could not bear it either. "They are well," he murmured evenly. "Rest easy; they are well."

When Harry opened his eyes again, he saw a peaceful expression settle over his aunt's face. She searched for Snape's hand, held it to her cheek and closed her eyes.

"Sirius," she whispered and drew her last breath.

Hermione began to cry and Harry felt a suffocating lump in his throat. He turned instinctively towards Dumbledore.

"Harry," Dumbledore murmured, "please forgive me. I failed to-"

The old wizard stopped short and his somber face suddenly turned ashen. His gaze was no longer on Harry but fixed somewhere behind the boy. Harry spun around to see what had so unnerved the Headmaster.

It was Severus Snape but a Severus Snape who was so overcome with emotion that he was scarcely recognizable. Covered in Petunia's blood, he trembled with rage. His black eyes blazed with unfathomable betrayal and they were unblinkingly fixed upon a pallid Dumbledore.


	51. Chapter 51

Author's Note: This will be the last installment until after the holidays! I hope everyone has a great holiday and I will see you back here on Friday, January 5.

Chapter 51

"How did this happen?" Harry cried tearfully. "She never left the house, never." He looked desperately to Lupin for confirmation.

They were all gathered on the sidewalk in front of the house trying to comfort each other and decide what to do next – all except Severus Snape who was carefully binding the two stunned wizards by the house. No one had approached him since Petunia had died and he seemed reluctant to rejoin the party. Still, Harry could not help but notice that Dumbledore's eyes kept drifting over and lingering on the Potions master.

"Why? Why would she leave?" he looked again to Lupin. "You saw what she was like."

Lupin nodded. "It seems pretty clear that she was lured out of the house."

Harry knitted his brows. He did not understand.

"Professor Lupin's correct," Dumbledore added heavily. "Your aunt was lured out by the one thing greater than her fear, her love for her son."

Hermione looked stricken.

"That Muggle shirt," Dumbledore mused pointing to one of the bound wizards. "Is it familiar to you? Did it belong, perhaps, to your cousin?"

Harry's mind raced. He could barely think to answer the question.

"Yes, I think it's his shirt, sir. Only I can't imagine how the Death Eaters managed to get hold of it."

"Polyjuice then, sir?" Lupin ventured.

"Yes, it's probably so," the old wizard sighed and turned to Harry. "So far as I can surmise, an imposter pretended to be your cousin in some danger. Petunia must have left the house in a valiant attempt to aid him. She was stricken down and as soon as her blood was shed they made an attack on the house."

"Because of me!" Harry cried bitterly. "Because they were trying to kill me."

Lupin hastily stepped in and put a comforting hand on his arm. "Harry, this isn't your fault."

Harry shook his hand off irritably. He was remembering what Ron had said about everyone he knew ending up dead and this was just one more example of it. He felt a crushing sense of hopelessness but everyone's eyes were upon him and he was keen that this tragedy not be about him.

"How did they know to target my aunt?" he asked evenly. After all, Dumbledore had told him previously that only three people were aware of the nature of his protection at Privet Drive. He himself had not been trusted with the information.

Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully. Now there was a distinctly troubled look in his eyes.

"That I cannot say, though it does appear that the attackers must have had some knowledge of the charm. It has not escaped my notice that they chose to use a blood spell on Petunia instead of a more direct killing curse." He paused. "What I find even more puzzling is how these two wizards became stupefied with no other wizards in the area."

They all turned toward where Severus Snape was just finishing securing the two unconscious wizards. They would be questioned later and taken into custody.

Lupin looked perplexed. "They weren't stunned by the protective charm?"

"They shouldn't have been," Came the reply. "But I have no other explanation for it."

"Maybe you should wake them up now, Professor," Hermione ventured. "They might have important information."

"That will not be necessary," said a silky voice.

They all started, not realizing that Snape had finally left Petunia's side. He still seemed to be on the verge of losing control. Shaking, he absolutely refused to look at Albus Dumbledore.

"It is not necessary because Petunia Dursley was carrying this!" Snape held up a worn wooden wand and stared at it with disbelief. Lupin's eyes softened as if it held some special significance to him as well. Dumbledore merely gave a knowing nod while Harry and Hermione exchanged blank looks.

"If I'm not mistaken, that was your mother's wand," Lupin stated.

"It was!" Snape interjected sharply.

His mother's wand! Harry could not believe it. His aunt Petunia had kept it all these years, kept it in spite of her feelings about magic. He had so many questions.

Dumbledore, however, suddenly seemed keen to be moving on. He admitted to leaving the wand with Petunia as a family memento and postulated that the dire circumstances had somehow produced some untapped magic in Harry's aunt but with a wary eye on Snape he was disinclined to discuss it any further.

"Harry is no longer safe here," he reminded them all. "I do think it's prudent to return him to Hogwarts immediately. Professor Lupin, if you would be so kind as to escort Miss Granger back to her residence."

"Certainly."

"I can apparate," Hermione told them.

"I know you can but for tonight I think it is best if you do not travel alone," the old wizard said kindly.

Harry approached Snape intending to ask for his mother's wand but something in the way Snape was eyeing it caused him to pause. Whatever he had been through this evening seemed somehow more significant than Harry's own claim to the wand. After all, it was he who had comforted his dying aunt and who was even now soaked in her blood. Whatever the circumstances, Harry could not bring himself to take it from Snape tonight.

After contemplating the pair silently for a time, Dumbledore beckoned Harry to his side.

"Severus," he said gently. "You must not be seen here."

Snape did not speak but carefully stowed away Lily Potter's wand. Turning, his chin up, he closed his eyes and vanished before their eyes.

"How did he disapparate with the wall still in place?" Hermione marveled.

"Professor Snape is a very powerful wizard," Lupin replied. "Far more than most."

Dumbledore nodded in agreement. "It's a mistake to underestimate Severus Snape – or Professor Snape as Professor Lupin quite properly addressed him."

"Professor," Harry called warily. "Did you hear that? I think someone's coming."

Dumbledore cocked his head to the side. "Quite right, Harry. Wands out. You and Hermione stay close to us."

They all tensed and pointed their wands toward the source of the sound.

"Oy!" cried a voice from inside the smoke. "I'm looking to sell a Godric Gryffindor card. Does anyone need one to complete their collection?"

"Ah, the Resistance," Dumbledore murmured. "How fortuitous."

"I need one!" Harry cried excitedly. "I was looking to spend 2 galleons and 3 knuts."

"Then Lana Lovelorn's got a deal for you!" a female voice giggled.

Harry smiled. "It's Luna," he told Hermione. "Luna Lovegood."

No sooner had he said this than Luna, wearing a plaid beret, stepped through the barrier with her father, the leader of the Civilian Resistance.

"The Ministry knows what happened," he told Dumbledore urgently. "They know Potter's alive and they are on their way!"

Dumbledore failed to look overly concerned. "We are on our way back to Hogwarts now."

"You don't understand. They are coming for him. They want to take him in for questioning."

"I'll be glad to help the investigation," Harry declared earnestly. "I'll answer whatever they ask."

"No, Harry," Dumbledore explained; now appearing rather sober. "It's a ploy. The Ministry has been trying to get you into custody for months."

"And once they've succeeded, it's only a matter of time before one of our fine Ministry officials gives you up to You-Know-Who," Mr. Lovegood added cynically.

Harry felt a shiver of fear.

"Not everyone involved in the Ministry is corrupt!" Hermione declared stubbornly.

"But enough of them are!" Luna retorted.

They looked back at Dumbledore who seemed at a momentary loss. "I certainly can not take him back to Hogwarts now. They'll come for him and I can't fight the Ministry of Magic. But he's not safe here anymore."

"Let him come with us," Mr. Lovegood relied. "We'll take him to one of our hideouts. Not one of our safe houses has ever been taken by the enemy. The Resistance can protect him."

"Voldemort will never stop hunting him," Dumbledore warned.

"We don't shrink from danger," Luna asserted. "Especially not when it's in the service of the right."

Luna's father beamed at her and tousled her beret affectionately.

Dumbledore thanked them, both for the warning and for offering to hide Harry Potter. He then pulled Harry aside to remind him about keeping his mind closed. Failure to do so could allow Voldemort access to the location of Resistance Headquarters.

But Harry had no intention of putting the Lovegoods into the same danger the Dursleys had been in.

"I'm not going," he announced.

"But, Harry, you have to," Hermione insisted.

He shook his head. "How many people have to die in order to protect me? I won't allow it any longer. It's time I fended for myself."

"Harry," Dumbledore started.

"No! There is a war going on and it's time I took my place in it," he said resolutely.

Lupin stepped in. "What's happened here is not your fault. You need to listen to Dumbledore. It's not your responsibility to fight Voldemort and his Death Eaters."

Harry rounded on him, looking him directly in the eye. "With all due respect, Sir, I think it is. There are wizards my age already fighting for the Ministry and Luna's been a member of the Resistance since Christmas. I've just as much right, duty, to stand against Voldemort as you have."

He fully expected further argument but Lupin did not say anything at first. He held Harry's gaze for a time and it suddenly seemed to Harry that there was something different in those gray eyes. It was as if Remus Lupin was suddenly seeing him in a new light.

"Spoken just like your father." He placed a firm hand on Harry's shoulder and grinned mischievously. "We're the last of the Marauders, you and I – so let's get up to no good!"

Harry felt a sudden burst of pride. Finally, Lupin was seeing him as an adult. Even Dumbledore seemed to acknowledge that he should take a more active role in the war, proposing again that he go with the Resistance, not just for protection but to do real work for the war effort.

"Can you use me?" Harry asked Luna's father.

"We have a place for all enemies of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Then I'm coming with you."

Mr. Lovegood extended his hand for Harry to shake. "Welcome to the cause, my boy. Luna. Will you take him to Headquarters?"

"Wait!" Hermione interjected. "Harry's right. I want to join too."

Dumbledore eyed her solemnly. "Are you certain about your decision, Hermione? You do understand that it is a crime to associate with the Resistance and if you choose to go with them you will be effectively living as an outlaw? It is an irrevocable choice."

Hermione nodded. "I understand, sir. I think I knew it would come to this one day."

They said their goodbyes. Dumbledore promised to contact them as soon as it was safe to do so. Luna soon led them out of the smoke and pulled off her beret to reveal a crimson quill twisted in her hair.

"A portkey!" she exclaimed rather proudly. "I made it to match my hat."

"It's er very nice," Hermione said politely as she grasped part of the plume.

Harry, too, reached for it but stopped short. A sudden sadness had crept upon him. He sighed.

"I always thought if this day came that Ron would be with us."

Hermione's face clouded. "Me, too, Harry but, you know, I have a feeling he'll be with us again before the end."

He could only hope she was right. Harry grasped the quill and felt a strong but familiar tug. It seemed as if he were not only leaving Privet Drive but his whole life behind him and whatever lay ahead was as unfamiliar as the shaded lane they were now headed for.


	52. Chapter 52

Author's Note: Well here it is the long awaited new installment. Was Christmas really 6 weeks ago? I apologize for the delay and promise another one will be up in two weeks. Thanks for reading!

Chapter 52

Eventually they landed near a wooded area, which Luna immediately hurried them into.

"Is this the way to Headquarters?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"No. We're not going there tonight. It's too risky. We have no way of knowing how many Death Eaters are still out there. I know a place we can stay until morning. It's not far."

The Resistance hideout turned out to be much further than Harry had hoped it would be. He was tired from traveling through the darkened woods and very anxious that they might be discovered. He was relieved when they finally came to a halt by the lake.

"There it is," Luna said pointing to an abandoned house by the lake. Its windows and doors were boarded up and weeds grew thick around it. With a pang Harry thought of the house they had just left at Privet Drive.

"Come on then," he muttered.

They took the boards out of the door, being careful to replace them once they entered the house. They immediately lit their wands. Inside the cabin was fully furnished, though a bit dated with furnishings that were in style some 20 years ago. Harry glanced in the kitchen. Cups were still in the sink. Tea things were set upon the table. Someone had left here in a big hurry.

"Is this a Resistance safe house?" he asked curiously.

"Not really," Luna replied. "It's Mad Eye Moody's old place. He let us use it when my father and I were in a tight spot but normally he wouldn't let anyone near it."

"I wonder why," Hermione mused. "I would think he'd want to help the cause and here's a house that nobody's even using."

Luna's face grew somber and she told them that there had been a vicious Death Eater attack when Moody had lived there. Someone had been killed.

"After that he didn't want anything more to do with the place. He packed his personal things and left. I don't think he's been back since."

"Well, somebody has," Harry announced, picking up a bag from Beale's Fish and Chips. It looked recent.

Luna bit her lip looking slightly dismayed. "That's why my father and I stopped coming here. It looked as if people were getting in and rifling around. One cannot be too careful. Still, we'll have enough notice if anyone is approaching."

Harry did not like the sound of that but Hermione was quick to suggest that they sleep in turns.

"That way someone's always on guard."

Harry opened his mouth to volunteer but Luna jumped in before he could.

"I'll take the first watch. You and Harry get some sleep."

While Luna perched herself strategically in front of a window, Harry and Hermione gathered up blankets and spread out in the next room.

"I'll wake you in a couple of hours," Luna called but Harry knew it was no use. He would not get any sleep tonight, not after everything that had happened. He tossed and turned on the floor while Hermione snored loudly from the sofa. Finally, he got up and went out to Luna.

"You might as well get some sleep, Luna" he suggested. "I'm up anyway."

Luna regarded him thoughtfully. "Well, it's my watch and I'm not going to abandon my post but if you want to squander your respite and sit out here, be my guest."

Smiling in spite of himself, Harry settled down next to her.

"I am sorry about your aunt and cousin, you know. I don't know if I got a chance to say that."

Harry nodded in acknowledgment. "I just can't believe it. Here I am fine. And they're both dead for no reason but knowing me."

Luna looked sympathetic.

"They couldn't leave the house, you see. Dumbledore put a spell over it to protect them but the Death Eaters managed to lure out my aunt and – well, you saw what happened."

"But how did the Death Eaters know to get her out of the house?" Luna asked looking perplexed.

Harry shrugged. "I don't know. All I know is that they wouldn't have been in any danger if it wasn't for me. It's like Ron said – everyone around me winds up dead."

"Well, not quite everyone. I've managed to avoid being smote and Hermione's still kicking." She smiled again but Harry did not return it. He saw nothing to make light of.

"I presume what Ron is really talking about is his sister and you couldn't have had anything to do with Ginny's death. That was all You-Know-Who."

If only it had been. It may have been Voldemort who ultimately killed her but Harry had let go myriad opportunities to aid her. He realized now that he had been enthralled with Ginny and glamorized her isolated existence along with the exotic potions and dalliances with the Dark Arts, both of which he had been warned against by Dumbledore, Lupin and even Snape. His grief and guilt were raw wounds and it cost him something to share with Luna just how much he had contributed to Ginny's death.

Luna wound a finger absently in her hair. "Honestly, Harry, I thought you would have known better than to get involved in all that," she remarked candidly.

Harry colored.

"But it seems like a lot of people let things get pretty bad with her. Where was her family? Her teachers? What about Dumbledore? He's head of the school. And Tonks – haven't there been charges brought up against her?"

Harry's whole body tensed at the mention of Nymphadoa Tonks. "Whatever they have on her, I'm sure it's just the tip of the iceberg," he replied bitterly. "If you want my opinion, she was more deeply involved in the Ginny situation than anyone, except maybe Dumbledore, suspects."

"We were wondering what was happening to her. We heard about the charges, of course, and that she resigned from the Ministry but that's about all. Dumbledore plays everything close to his chest so we were left to guess. And my guesses tend to be a bit inaccurate at times."

"Well, I doubt they are too far off the mark in this case. I feel terrible for Lupin. He's pretty torn up about it but I don't see how he can trust her."

They continued to talk for quite some time, eager to catch up with one another. Harry was very interested in the workings of the Resistance and Luna was just as curious about everyone back at Hogwarts.

"I guess you guys hear a lot about the school from Dumbledore."

Luna snorted. "Hardly. Didn't I just tell you that Dumbledore keeps everything to himself."

"But I would have thought that he and your dad would be in close contact – with him being the head of the Order and your dad being head of the Resistance."

"Well, we share information with him but he certainly doesn't reciprocate." She crossed her arms on her chest. "He only lets us in on things when he needs our help. Most of the time he keeps us in the dark. It's his prerogative, I guess, but I've always felt that we could be a lot more effective if we had more information."

Luna scowled. She looked extremely frustrated and she should be, thought Harry. She and her father were risking their lives. They needed all the information they could get to make decisions that could mean life or death.

Life or death. Harry looked upon Luna Lovegood with a renewed respect. He could not help but be impressed with her loyalty to the cause and her competence in the field. Her frank criticism of Dumbledore, however, was a surprise, though not an unwelcome one. Generally, Harry was surrounded by people who had nothing but praise for Dumbledore and he often wondered if he alone saw the flaws in the beloved leader and Headmaster.

In fact, Dumbledore had been at the forefront of Harry's mind since their last serious discussion when Dumbledore had told him of his involvement with the other Tirion wizards who had made up the King's Alchemists. It was they who had been responsible for the death of Tom Riddle's mother and had left Dumbledore to deal with her abandoned son. His decision not to interfere any further had led to disastrous results. And, if all that wasn't enough, Harry also discovered that Dumbledore was now, or had been, artificially extending his life, in spite of all that he had said against it. Harry felt more than a little confused. How could he reconcile what he knew about Dumbledore with what everyone else believed?

Luna, he suddenly realized, was eying him carefully, probably waiting for a response to her last remark.

"Luna," he started tentatively, "what do you think about Dumbledore?"

"Dumbledore?" Her eyebrows arched. "I like him."

"No, that's not what I mean. I guess what I should be asking is, do you trust him?" That did not sound right either. "I mean-"

Chuckling, Luna pushed a curly lock behind her ear. "No, I know what you're trying to say and, yes, absolutely. We trust Dumbledore but he has no authority over our group and we make our own decisions. Dumbledore is a great wizard and a worthy ally but we disagree on some accounts. For example, while we seek to win the war completely, bringing justice to all those who have allied themselves with evil, Dumbledore seems primarily concerned with personally vanquishing You-Know-Who."

She was certainly insightful. Dumbledore had in fact told Harry that he felt it was his personal responsibility to rid the world of Voldemort once and for all. What he could not see was why the Lovegoods would take issue with that. "But if Voldemort were destroyed-"

"An entire network of Death Eaters would still be in place to terrorize the country and take over the world. And what about the here and now? We are out every night patrolling to keep the citizens at least partially protected and to prevent further havoc. But where are the Members of the Order? Locked up in Hogwarts doing research on soul-splitting. Except, of course, Moody. He's out every night and probably will be until the last of the Death Eaters is ousted for good but the rest of them …"

Harry flushed. Putting it that way it seemed as if the Order did nothing at all.

"Don't get me wrong. It's necessary work and probably better suited to them than us. Still …"

Harry nodded glumly. While Luna had some strong opinions on the way Dumbledore handled things, she clearly had no inkling of what he had done in the past. The incident at Azkaban, for example, when Dumbledore had knowingly sent those Aurors into a trap for no reason but to spare him. What if she heard about that?

"And then there are his special cases," Luna continued. "People he's willing to expend all his resources on while everyone else is left to take their chances. Like the Longbottoms. You know that Mrs. Longbottom is old friends with Dumbledore? Well, he seemed to decide that she was in danger and ordered a 24 hour watch at her house."

Harry nodded.

"Of course, old Augusta Longbottom would have no such thing. She flatly refused the help saying that she and her grandson were as capable as anyone else. 'Send your help elsewhere; somewhere it's needed.'"

"I'm one of his special cases," the boy confessed with a frown. "He's put a lot of people in danger to protect me."

Luna gave him an odd look. Apparently this fact was obvious to a lot of people.

"It's because of a prophecy," Harry explained. "A prophecy which says that I am the only one with the power to defeat Voldemort."

It failed to illicit the response Harry had anticipated. In fact Luna looked simultaneously amused and doubtful.

"Normally I'm a firm believer in prophecies but, given the fact that you set another student on fire during your last exam, I'm going to have to see some much better wand work against the Death Eaters before I start calling you the Chosen One."

He flashed a reluctant smile. Doubts about his abilities plagued him constantly and Luna's off-hand remark was upsetting.

"So why the heart-to-heart about Dumbledore anyway?" she inquired.

Harry was torn. He was tempted to tell her everything he knew but it would mean exposing what he himself had done – Kreacher, the Unforgivable Curses, even allowing Voldemort into his mind. Besides, something else held him back, something significant. He feared that if he told anyone about some of Dumbledore's more questionable actions it could affect the outcome of the war. Would the Order still support him? Could they win the war without him?

"It's because of your aunt and cousin, isn't it? You don't think he did enough to protect them."

Harry nodded. It was true. It was not the whole truth but it was true none the less. His mind snapped back to Aunt Petunia lying dead on the lawn. "And I don't think Snape does either," he added, coming to a sudden realization.

"What?"

"After Aunt Petunia died, Snape just stared at Dumbledore with this terrible look. I think he held him responsible." Harry shook his head. Why Severus Snape cared so much about these two individuals was unknown but Harry knew he would never forget the expression of pure hatred etched into those shallow features. He shivered inwardly.

They both settled into silence and Harry was prepared to let the subject of Dumbledore drop but there was one more thing he felt he needed to say.

"Dumbledore's been artificially extending his life," he murmured.

"He told you?"

"You're not surprised?"

"Not really, Harry. No one can make out his origins but he must be several hundred years old. He'd have to be doing something."

She had no idea - no idea that several hundred years was merely scratching the surface, no idea that he had lived well before Hogwarts was founded but in the very same castle, serving the king.

"But don't you think it's wrong?"

"I do," she admitted. "But I wouldn't want to fight this war without him. Would you?"

It was a simple answer but she had summed it up. In spite of everything, Dumbledore was still the best chance they had of securing a victory against Voldemort. "I guess you're right. Should we wake up Hermione and go to bed?"

"No," said Luna, rifling through her bag. "Let her sleep. I don't think we're through catching up yet. Besides, I've got butterbeer." She handed him a bottle. "And since this is your first night as a member of the Resistance, I think a toast is in order."

"Right," said Harry, raising his bottle. "What should we toast?"

"I know," said Luna and her eyes twinkled mischievously. "Albus Dumbledore."

"And a long life," Harry added ironically.

Laughing, they clinked the bottles and settled in to watch the sun come up.


	53. Chapter 53

Chapter 53

The night Lily Potter's sister was killed was one of the worst nights Severus Snape had known since he left the Dark Lord's service. It was over. His only redeeming act, his vow to protect Lily's family was shattered. He had failed Petunia just as he had failed Lily. There was only one left to protect now, Harry Potter, but Severus knew well that Harry's destiny fell outside his grasp.

Back at Hogwarts, he stalked the corridors awaiting Dumbledore's return. It felt very much like that Halloween night so long ago. How could Dumbledore let this happen to me? He thought bitterly. He knows what she means to me. It had felt like a betrayal then and it felt like one now. He clenched his fists beneath his robes knowing what would come next. Dumbledore would pull him aside and say that there was nothing to be done. It was a tragedy, another evil act by the Dark Lord and how brave Snape was to have left his service. Yes, he knew him too well, knew exactly what the old man would say and he knew himself well enough to know that he could not sit and listen to Dumbledore's spoon-fed platitudes, not after what had just happened. He had to do something.

Severus pulled on a greasy tendril. As angry as he was over the protection at Privet Drive, the truth was it still should have worked. Information about the spell had clearly leaked somehow and Snape would make it his mission to find out how.

Realizing how foolish it would be to seek out the Dark Lord in such an emotional state, Severus opted instead for the Serpent's Fang, a Knockturn Alley pub that attracted a number of Voldemort's followers and other assorted dubious folk. Closing the door behind him, he quickly scanned the room for familiar faces. Nestled in a corner he found Lucius and his sister-in-law Bellatrix.

"Severus," he called. "Join us. We're a bit surprised to see you. We thought you might be with that lot the Dark Lord's seeing to."

"Being rewarded for breaking the secret at Privet Drive?" Snape sneered. "I'd like to congratulate whoever did get the information. I've been trying to crack the old man for years."

"You ought to be glad you weren't involved with it," Lucius said conspiratorially. "Potter's gone missing and the Dark Lord is furious."

Severus paused and took a drink from his glass. He did not want to appear overly interested. Scanning the room again, he noted a few absences, including Claudia's. Her absence could well signify her involvement with the night's attack.

"So, Bellatrix," he said silkily. "Why aren't you with the Dark Lord meting out judgment and punishment?"

An ugly look overtook her features. "What's it to you, Snape?"

Her voice had an edge. Clearly she was unhappy not to be included, to be missing from the Dark Lord's side. This was the perfect opportunity to campaign against Claudia in his attempts to force a confrontation between the two. He shrugged non-committaly.

"I suppose he has his second at his side? Or is she involved in all of this?"

Bellatrix's eyes blazed. "His what? What are you talking about?"

Lucius Malfoy looked on with interest.

"You know who I'm talking about," Snape answered dismissively. "His new protégée. That woman who's always being called to his side. I heard some other Death Eaters calling her his second and I've no idea what she's really called."

He yawned. "You know the type, Lucius, full of ambition. I heard her bragging about being the next Dark Lord. I seldom pay any mind to that sort but in her case the Dark Lord ought to watch his back. Who is she anyway? Friend of Narcissa?"

Bellatrix immediately opened her mouth but a glance from Lucius silenced her.

"We don't know her name either but she's certainly turned the Dark Lord's eye," he said.

Bellatrix seethed silently in her chair. They know something, Snape decided. If he could get Bellatrix on her own, he might be able to trick her into giving out some information.

"The Dark Lord ought to know if she's angling for his position," Bellatrix muttered.

Lucius chuckled. "You think he doesn't know? How many such claims are made here on a Saturday night? None of them come to anything. The Dark Lord always knows."

They raised their glasses to that.

"Of course," Severus mused, "none of this will matter is she was involved in that Privet Drive debacle."

Malfoy seemed to have relaxed his guard a bit. "I believe she was the one who gave the information about the protection which did turn out to be solid. It's the plan and the execution that went wrong. Of course, it may not matter to the Dark Lord in the end."

The corner of Snape's mouth traveled upwards ever so slightly. "All true but she is favored. Even Bellatrix will have to admit that."

Bellatrix glared at him. "Yes, it does help to be favored. I should think you know that best of all."

Snape looked blank.

"I'm referring to the time your entire team was killed during the Dark Lord's first reign. Several of his best Death Eaters were killed on an unauthorized mission."

Snape's heart began to thump in his chest. "I had nothing to do with that!" he thundered slamming down his drink. Several heads turned. "They did that on their own. I would never have allowed it."

"Oh, we understand," Malfoy was quick to interject. "What surprises us is that _he_ understood."

Bellatrix nodded.

"Believe me, Lucius, I paid for their foolishness. Don't let anyone tell you differently." Snape had lost control of the encounter. Images of that night bubbled up in his mind and he fought to suppress them. Pulling back his sleeve, he deposited a fistful of coins on the table.

"If Potter is indeed missing, we ought to be trying to locate him, not swilling down fire whiskey."

The other two Death Eaters looked irritated and did not move.

"I'm going back to Hogwarts," Severus announced. "If anyone knows where Potter is, it's bound to be old man Dumbledore."

Returning to the castle, Severus felt even more unnerved than when he had left it. He could see clearly now just how damaging that memory could become and he knew what he must do, though the thought of it terrified him.

The Headmaster had returned and Snape presented himself at his office. Albus Dumbledore looked almost pained to see him and Severus could plainly see sympathy shining in his clear blue eyes, but he hardened himself against it.

"Severus," Dumbledore murmured. "I -"

Snape held up his hand. He would hear nothing. He was here for one purpose and one purpose only.

"Headmaster, the memory we discussed – the time has come to remove it."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Back at Resistance Headquarters, Harry Potter found that he was quickly adjusting to life with the group and had immediately become a major contributor. Dumbledore's Defense Against the Dark Arts class had trained him better than he knew and he was more than able to handle himself during any skirmishes that came up.

"And that's mostly what we see now," Mr. Lovegood told him one night on the way back from patrol. "We used to get into some actual battles but we don't see that anymore. Not since the attack on Hogwarts. I don't reckon we'll see another big battle until the last one."

Harry's moth went dry. The last one? Does he mean when I have to go after Voldemort? His newly found confidence evaporated. "The last battle?"

"Sure," Mr. Lovegood answered and his head bobbed up and down. "He's going to dissolve the government and crown himself king but he's got to get into Hogwarts to do that and he's got to get past Dumbledore."

"Do you know when this might happen?"

"Not really," Mr. Lovegood confessed. "He seemed to be moving quickly but not lately. It's like he's just biding his time."

Although Harry was anxious for the terror to stop permanently, he could not help but be relieved that there was no immediate confrontation in the future. One disappointment he had felt during his time in the Resistance was the lack of communication from Dumbledore.

Still, as Harry had learned by now, answers were seldom forthcoming from Dumbledore so all he could do was work on his own. I must be careful, he warned himself constantly, not to give Voldemort any opportunity to exploit the mind connection. Although other members of the resistance suggested he start using some more powerful spells, Harry refused to use even slightly gray areas of magic. All too well he had learned his lesson from Christmas and from Ginny. He used mostly defensive magic but to such advantage that he played no small part in the capture of several Death Eaters.

"That skinny one can fight," he had heard one of the Death Eaters complain and Harry had smiled grimly beneath his disguise pleased by his new role as a useful but anonymous warrior in the battle for the wizarding world.

Hermione, too, seemed to have found her niche although her talents tended to fall outside the area of the battlefield.

"You're smart," Rita had quipped appraisingly the first day at Headquarters. "Too smart for your own good maybe but I think I could use you."

Hermione had flushed, obviously thinking back to their fourth year when she had discovered Rita's secret animagus form and trapped her in a jar. Then there was the blackmail …

Rita glared back at her. "Don't think I've forgotten your petty little games but, as they say, the enemy of my enemy is my friend so I'm willing to overlook them – for now."

"Alright then," Hermione answered primly. "What exactly do we do?"

"We deal in information," Rita explained. "Knowing who to trust and staying one step ahead of both the Ministry and the Death Eaters."

So it was that Hermione Granger and Rita Skeeter became collaborators. Together they decided who and what came through Headquarters and for what reason. They established evacuation routes and warning systems and because of their work they were able to stay in their current headquarters for some time. Usually life in the Resistance meant moving from safe house to safe house day in and day out but, thanks to Rita and Hermione, they were able to enjoy a modicum of security where they were.

For that reason, everyone was shocked when Hermione returned to Headquarters one afternoon with a stranger on her arm. For a moment there was mayhem. No one knew whether or not to make a break for it and Hermione was rooted nervously in the doorway.

"It's Ministry!" someone called. "I've seen him before."

"Right! It's the Minister's brother!" cried another with outrage. "The jig is up. Let's get out of here!"

"No, please!" Hermione urged. "It's okay. I can vouch for him."

There were murmurs of growing discontent.

"No, he's okay," said a voice from the back. They all quieted. It was Harry Potter.

"I know him," said Harry looking stunned. "It's my best friend, Ron Weasley."


	54. Chapter 54

Chapter 54

For the first time since their row at Hogwarts, Harry was face to face with Ron Weasley, but Ron refused to meet his eyes. Reddening, he quickly looked away. Harry could not help but notice how different he appeared now. His raggedy sweater had been traded for Ministry robes, and shiny new shoes replaced his worn trainers.

Although Harry had not heard from Ron since he left school, he knew that Hermione had been corresponding with him all summer only he thought it had stopped after they joined the Resistance. It should have stopped.

People all over the room were arguing over what should be done but Hermione held her ground with Ron standing awkwardly beside her. Harry did not know what to make of it. He adjusted his glasses and looked about for Luna. She, too, looked utterly bewildered and chewed the tip of her wand nervously. Everyone else, however, seemed to have a rather strong opinion and was quite keen on expressing it.

"Alright, alright!" Mr. Lovegood shouted. "Let's all calm down and get things sorted. Rita, go outside and make sure they weren't followed. Be sure you go past the apparition point. And let's get some secrecy sensors in here to make certain he's not carrying anything."

Once it was ascertained that they were in no immediate danger, Mr. Lovegood cleared the room of all but a chosen few, including a distinctly nervous Ron and a rather shaken Hermione. She must have known what a colossal breach it was to bring him to Headquarters but she had clearly not expected such an outcry.

"Very well, Hermione. Would you please tell us why you brought a stranger into our midst?" Mr. Lovegood muttered. "And a known Ministry sympathizer at that?"

Rita Skeeter clicked her tongue. "And I thought to make you my protégée."

"This is our friend Ron Weasley. I know I shouldn't have brought him here without checking but I was afraid you wouldn't give him a chance. I know he's okay. We've been through everything together – the Sorceror's stone, the Forbidden forest, the Dept. of Mysteries. He's risked his life for us before, hasn't he, Harry?"

Everyone's eyes swept over to Harry who suddenly felt rather uncomfortable. He loosened his collar. "That's true," he answered. He did not know what to say. "He's seen me through some tough spots."

One of the people still in the room, Luna Lovegood turned and looked very hard at Harry and then Ron. "It's also true that he's been cozying up to our esteemed Minister of Magic since his appointment and is currently in his employ."

"Was," Ron emphasized. "I don't buy into the way he courts Lucius and You-Know-Who's followers but what you don't understand is that I was forced into that position by Dumbledore. He told me to stick close to Percy and report back. Since I'm his brother, I made the perfect spy."

Hermione nodded vigorously and even Harry attested to the truthfulness of the statement. While Mr. Lovegood continued to question Ron and Hermione, Rita went out to contact Dumbledore in hopes of verifying Ron's story. It did not take long.

"The kid's story checks out," she announced. "Dumbledore did send him as a spy and he performed adequately. He only went to the Ministry permanently after the two of them had a falling out over his sister's death."

Harry looked down. He hated to think of that terrible day. After a few more questions Mr. Lovegood took Harry, Rita and Luna aside for their feelings.

"I'm inclined to give him a chance," Mr. Lovegood stated. "With Harry and Hermione both vouching for him."

Rita turned to Harry. "You are vouching for him?" she clarified.

"Er, yes," Harry said hesitantly. "He would never put anyone in danger." Luna gave him a funny look. It was not exactly a ringing endorsement and, while Harry believed what he said, he felt distinctly uncomfortable having the question put to him at all.

"What do you think, Rita?" Mr. Lovegood continued.

"Personally," she murmured, "I think he's got a thing for little Miss Know-It-All and probably couldn't hack not seeing her."

Luna scuffed her shoe on the floor and rather uncharacteristically declined to give any input.

"Alright, Ron, we have decided to let you stay under a few conditions. Until further notice you are not to leave Headquarters. Neither you nor any other members of the Resistance may contact any outsiders, a rule which Hermione seems to have forgotten," he said pointedly glowering down at her.

Ron nodded. "Don't worry, sir. You'll see I'm trustworthy."

Mr. Lovegood looked Ron straight in the eye. "You had better be. Members of the Resistance are asked to risk their lives on a daily basis but it's up to me to decide which risks are acceptable. If you double cross us, you will seriously regret it." He nodded to Luna. "Do you see that beautiful young woman?"

Ron nodded.

"She is my daughter whom I love more than anything. If something happens to her because of you, mark my words, you will wish the Death Eaters had gotten to you."

Ron swallowed nervously and exchanged glances with Hermione.

"Yeah, there's just this one thing," Rita added haughtily. "We hate Ministry – so until we trust that you're really not Ministry you are not to be alone ever."

"Fair enough," said Ron.

"More than fair," Rita said pointedly. "Though I don't know where we'll find anyone willing to share a bunk with Ministry rubbish – changed or not."

The room was silent until Harry finally spoke out quietly. "I'll bunk with him"

Hermione shot him a grateful look. Maybe she thought things would go back to the way they were or maybe she was just thankful Harry was still trying to support her even though she had broken every Resistance rule by bringing Ron here in the first place.

"Alright, Harry, you and Hermione get him settled in. Hermione, I need you back in twenty minutes for a security meeting with Rita."

"Thanks for …" Hermione hesitated. She did not quite know what to say.

"Well, if he turns out to be useful, we'll be thanking you," Luna cut in. She took off her glasses and squinted at Ron. "Nice robes, Weasley," she smirked.

Ron turned beat red and Luna marched out of the room. Hermione soon left for her meeting and Harry was left alone with Ron.

It was awkward showing him around Headquarters, trying to pretend that he was just another member of the Resistance and Ron did little to lighten the mood. Over the course of the next two weeks, however, he did everything that was asked of him and the Resistance could find no fault with Ron. They chose not to relax the restrictions but many individual members were becoming more casual with them.

Harry, however, still took them very seriously, especially since it often seemed to fall to him to accompany Ron, as they were bunkmates. That was why when he woke to find Ron's bunk empty one September night, he could not simply go back to sleep even though he knew that Ron was probably just listening to the wireless with the night patrol. Pulling himself out of bed, he padded over to the wizard sitting outside their room.

"Have you seen Ron?"

"Ron, yeah. He's playing cards with Luna."

"Right," said Harry heading back to bed but just as he was getting comfortable again he realized that something seemed a bit unusual. It was not uncommon for Ron and Hermione to play cards but, although Luna had not said anything against Ron, Harry had the distinct impression that she was not thrilled with the situation. She and Hermione had even fallen out over it though they had quickly made it up. Harry found it unlikely that she would be sitting downstairs playing cards with Ron in the middle of the night.

He grudgingly got back out of bed to talk to the wizard again.

"Did Luna come down and get him?" he asked.

"No, Ron asked if he could go meet her in the den so I said fine. It's just down the hall." He cleared his throat. "I don't think we have to watch him that closely. He's been here three weeks and any friend of Harry Potter-"

"Right," Harry cut him off briskly. "I'm just going to pop out and have a word with him."

Harry was very irritated. He knew that Luna followed every Resistance rule to the tee. She would never let Ron walk through Headquarters unaccompanied. So he had clearly lied to the wizard on patrol but why? Maybe he and Hermione were up to something. He hoped not. Hermione had practically lost her place here for bringing Ron in the first place.

"Ron?" He was not in the den or the kitchen and Harry was beginning to get a very bad feeling about things. He headed to the front room only to glimpse a very unusual sight – the front door guard asleep at his post. Harry shook him and tried to wake him but it was no use. Glancing at the floor, he noticed a broken bottle of butterbeer which appeared to have slipped from his grasp.

Harry stepped back and gasped. This wizard had been put to sleep and the realization of what must have happened hit Harry like a ton of bricks. He stumbled, sickened at the truth, and opened his mouth to sound the alarm But suddenly everything seemed to be moving in slow motion and before Harry could speak the front door opened and Ron Weasley stood behind it with blazing eyes.

"Ron," Harry pleaded. "Don't do this!" But even as he said it he could see lines of Ministry soldiers lined up behind him.

"I'm the one the Ministry wants," Harry told him. "Leave the rest of these people alone."

Ron laughed wildly. "You think you're the only one the Ministry wants? Typical Harry Potter. The world revolves around you." Ron was speaking very quickly and seemed almost out of control. "Well, I got news for you. The Ministry wants all these outlaws only we wouldn't have found them if for you. So congratulations, Harry Potter, you've just arranged the arrests all these people. Only this time you're going down too, thankfully. You won't be able to hurt anyone from prison."

Harry stared at him. He could not believe this was happening. Ron stepped aside and the raid began in earnest. Harry was immediately restrained and the soldiers spread out through Headquarters. No one would get away tonight.

"How can you do this? How can you betray your friends?" Harry demanded.

Ron's eyes were wild, his face bright red. "Don't talk to me about betrayals! What about Ginny? And now you bring Hermione into the Resistance? Hermione! So she can live like a criminal and get hurt or killed!"

"Hermione made up her own mind. She stays to fight," Harry spat back.

"She stays because of loyalty to you," Ron countered.

By now Headquarters was in total chaos. Wizards and witches were being led out bound but still in their night clothes. Others were not choosing to come quietly and Harry could hear the sounds of shouts and spells echoing throughout the house. His own wand had been taken immediately.

One of the soldiers brought out a tearful Hermione, unbound and desperately clutching her wand.

"Let her go," Ron commanded. "You heard the Minister. She is not to be arrested. It's alright, Hermione. You can come with me."

Hermione was livid. "You brought the soldiers here and sold us all out?" She looked at Ron with repulsion. "And now you make some sort of deal for me? I don't want your deal. I hate you!"

Ron looked stricken. The soldiers moved toward her.

"No, don't arrest her," he repeated. "She doesn't know what she's saying."

"Oh, I understand, Ronald Weasley. I understand you're a dirty traitor and I can't stand the sight of you. I stay with these people. Their fate is mine."

"Don't touch her," Ron said to the soldiers who were keen to subdue her. No one is going to arrest you, Hermione. No matter what you say."

Hermione glared and screwed up her face. She turned to the nearest soldier.

"Avada Kedavra!" He fell dead.

There was a collective gasp. Someone pushed past a shell-shocked Ron.

"Arrest that woman!"

With Hermione bound and silenced things began to move quickly. Harry felt himself being pushed into the night air. He could hear Luna Lovegood somewhere behind him cursing at their guards in goblin and causing as much havoc as she could.

"You think you'll improve your position in the Ministry by turning in Harry Potter?" she screamed at Ron. "I got news for you. There isn't going to be a Ministry for long."

Ron scowled at her and muttered something about Harry being better off in jail.

"Jail?" Luna cried incredulously. "You think he's going to jail? Think again, love. You just handed him over to Lord Voldemort."


	55. Chapter 55

Chapter 55

The air was suddenly electric and Severus felt a rush of excitement. His heart quickened as familiar warmth crept up his arm. He barely noticed the Muggle writhing on the floor in front of him. All he could focus on were these powerful sensations and he did not want them to end. He raised his wand again, poised to deliver another curse …

With a start Severus woke up feeling instantly cold and empty. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes trying to recapture the sensations from his dream. No! Severus forced himself to his feet. He knew better than to dwell on such dreams even now as they were becoming more frequent.

They are becoming more frequent because I have been using more Dark Magic, he reasoned. I've little choice having to spend so much time with Bellatrix Lestrange. His efforts to drive a wedge between her and Claudia seemed to be working but the cost to Snape was high. Whatever I have to do is justified, he told himself. But another part of him wondered if it was truly necessary to use so many curses. Could it be that he was falling back into his old ways?

He thought back to the other night when he had been summoned to the Dark Lord's side. Falling to his knees he had kissed the hem of his former Master's robes and looked up into eyes. Absent were the feelings of revulsion he had typically felt and when the Dark Lord had spoken and Severus could not help but feel a certain compulsion to do his bidding.

I'm no different than anyone else, he told himself. The Dark Lord had always been charismatic and now that he had a human form, he was attracting followers as numerous as the stars. But he knew that no matter what he told himself there was a difference. He had once been as dark as Bellatrix herself and he feared he could be slipping irrevocably back into the Dark Arts.

One of his cauldrons was threatening to boil over due to his inattention. He adjusted the flames and filled a flask up to take to the Headmaster. It was one of Snape's most clever inventions, in essence a strengthening solution but a long-lasting and potent one. They were using it to counter Dumbledore's frailty but it was no Elixir of Life and both men knew that it could only stave off time temporarily.

He found Dumbledore pacing around his office, his mind clearly focused on things other than the current school year. He stopped and looked long into Snape's face before he let his gaze fall. What does he see, Snape wondered, when he looks at me now.

"You are well, Severus?" Dumbledore asked.

Severus told him that he was but both men knew it was untrue. Dumbledore glanced reflexively at the corner cabinet which housed the Penseive while Severus pretended that he had not noticed.

The old wizard took a seat behind his massive desk. "I think I shall take the Draught of Peace tonight. Will you bring it up to me?"

Snape agreed but he could not help but notice that the Headmaster was requiring the potion much more often now. Was it because of the situation with Harry Potter or was it merely a means of monitoring him. After all, Dumbledore knew just how dangerous it was to remove that memory from Snape's mind. He would be looking for signs that his trusted ally was slipping.

"Any news about Potter, sir?" Snape queried.

"I'm afraid not and although it is imperative that we get him out of prison before Voldemort gets to him, the means of doing so alludes me." He let out a long sigh. "Yes, Severus, his situation, I fear, is becoming bleak."

The outlook for Harry Potter and the rest of his group was indeed bleak. With Azkaban closed the Ministry was forced to find other accommodations for their prisoners and while they had renovated several buildings, they were still short on facilities. Those that were taken in the raid on Resistance Headquarters were detained in an enormous military barracks filled with rows upon rows of bunk beds. Although there were several guards posted throughout the building, it was magic that truly made it a prison. A series of force fields and magical locks ensured that no one could escape.

The strain of the situation had developed into a general atmosphere of gallows humor with Harry voted most likely to disappear in the middle of the night. Other wagers were made over who would be executed first. Mr. Lovegood, leader of the Resistance, was the clear favorite. After that, bets were split between Rita Skeeter and, though no one would say it in front of Mr. Lovegood, Luna.

"I'm betting three rations that I go before Rita," Luna informed Harry. "Do you want to get in on that?"

"Luna, no! Don't talk like that. How can you even think about it?" Harry snapped.

"Oh, lighten up," Luna chided. "After all, I'm sure you'll be gone long before we will."

"Thanks," Harry muttered sarcastically. As if he needed reminding about how dire any of their situations were.

Luna swung her legs from the top bunk and tilted her head slightly to the side. "I think it's a matter of pride really," she mused. "If Rita is taken before me, I feel like I haven't done as much as I could, you know?"

Harry looked up into Luna's face. Her cavalier manner was rather off-putting, but in her eyes he could see that for all her bluster she was just as scared as he was. He wanted to take her hand and say something comforting but he felt a sudden awkwardness about doing so.

"Alright, Luna, I'm in," he declared with a falsely cheerful tone. "Let's pool our rations but don't tell your dad."

Luna grinned. She leaned down and thumped him on the back. "You're a good man, Harry Potter."

Coloring slightly, Harry felt his own mouth turn up at the corners but when he looked at Luna her eyes were on the stairwell leading up to the detention center. She raised an eyebrow.

"Well, well, well. Look who's here. Dumbledore has finally got his people out."

Harry followed her gaze to see Minerva McGonagall walking up the stairs flanked by two guards. His mouth went dry. Professor McGonagall under arrest? Had society completely fallen apart? But, as he watched, a third guard came up and placed a chair outside the force field. McGonagall handed over her wand and took a seat while the guards returned to their posts.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry cried, striding over to where she sat on the other side of the force field.

She looked relieved to see him. "Harry, are you well? Are they treating you decently?"

She usually did not use his first name and Harry was slightly taken aback by her more friendly manner. She was no longer his teacher, however, and probably herself put off by the prison setting. Still, he could not quite bring himself to give up the formality she had demanded for the past six years.

"I'm fine, Professor. What are you doing here?"

"Because of your popularity with the public and this facility's reprehensible safety record, Dumbledore was able to get special permission from the Ministry to have an observer here at all times until your hearing."

"I'm supposed to get a hearing?" Harry was surprised. He had thought that he would be locked up until the Death Eaters came for him.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Theoretically, yes, but we all know that's not going to happen. We think that's why the Minister agreed to Dumbledore's plan. They don't expect you to stay here very long."

Harry nodded.

"But in the meantime, there will always be a member of the Order to observe things here and sound the alarm if anything seems out of order."

Harry had been giving some thought to how things might play out and what he could possibly do to save himself.

"Professor, if they only send a few Death Eaters I may be able to break away somehow if I had my wand but they took all our wands."

"Yes, I know. Wands are always confiscated until release from prison. And since yours is brother wand to You-Know-Who's, we are convinced that yours has been 'misplaced.'"

Harry opened his mouth to ask for clarification.

"Destroyed, Harry. I'm sure it was destroyed the minute you walked in here. But I sincerely doubt that you'll be able slip away that easily anyway. Dumbledore's been working night and day on a plan to get you out of here."

Harry felt a pang. He hated to lose his first wand and had hoped it might afford him some protection if he eventually had to go up against Voldemort.

"So Dumbledore thinks he can get us out of here?" he asked hopefully.

McGonagall pursed her lips. "Honestly, Harry, he has to be primarily concerned with getting you out. The others, at least, are all subject to due process, however bogus that may be at present."

Harry pounded his fist against the barrier in frustration. Didn't Dumbledore give any thought to anyone else? Several heads turned in their direction, including the guards.

"Why don't you draw a little more attention to our conversation?" McGonagall asked dryly. She regarded him sternly. "If you think for a moment that Dumbledore is not deeply concerned about the lives of every wizard in this room, you are gravely mistaken."

Harry looked down, slightly chastened.

"In any case, it's no small feat for Dumbledore to get any of you out so you must be very careful while you are in here. If anything seems at all unusual or you overhear something, let us know immediately. Remember the wizard posted here is your only window into the outside world and Dumbledore's only window into here. They won't, of course, let him in to see you," she added with an affected sniff.

Harry agreed to be vigilant and gave her a detailed description of daily life there.

"It's an absolute travesty of justice!" she muttered looking around. "So many good people-" She stopped short. "Where's Hermione Granger?"

Harry pointed to an isolated bunk near the end of the room. Hermione was lying on it with a blanket pulled up to her chin. She was utterly ignored by the rest of the prisoners.

"Well, how is she faring?" McGonagall demanded.

"Not very well," Harry confessed. He began to explain what had transpired the night of the raid but she cut him off.

"I know what happened," she said and from the tone of her voice Harry inferred that she knew the whole ugly story and he need not add anything.

"I've tried to talk to her but she's too upset. And the others … well, you can see she's not too popular after what happened."

McGonagall nodded.

"But Viktor Krum is detained here too and he's been trying to get her to come round a bit. In fact, just seeing him did seem to lift her spirits."

"Poor girl. What a world we live in when it's a transgression just to trust your friends." She shook her head sadly. "Still, it's hardly unusual to see betrayals like this when You-Know-Who's gaining a foothold. Why you need not look any further than your poor mum and dad and that snake Peter Pettigrew." She sniffed. "But Ron Weasley. I never would have thought it of him."

Harry scowled deeply. "Yeah, well, I think that's what happened to him," he said bitterly. He spent too much time with Peter Pettigrew and now he's just as big a rat as he is."


	56. Chapter 56

Author's Note: Sorry about the delay, I've been trying to post this since Friday, I just couldn't get it to upload.

Chapter 56

"Now I know what Sirius must have felt like after Peter Pettigrew betrayed them," Harry ranted without a thought to Lupin sitting just outside the force field. Remus Lupin said nothing. He had become accustomed to such remarks since Harry had been incarcerated.

Harry rambled on. "Well, you know what I mean. It just makes me so furious. If I ever see him again …"

Finally, Lupin stopped him. "Harry, take my advice as a friend. You have to stop obsessing about Ron Weasley. What he did was reprehensible but it cannot be undone now. And I know from personal experience that there is nothing to be gained from dwelling on it. After all, as the Lovegoods say, the war still needs fighting even behind prison walls."

Harry smiled slyly. Percy Weasley's decision to allow Dumbledore's representatives in to prison had effectively allowed Mr.Lovegood to run what was left of the Resistance from behind bars.

Lupin scanned the rest of the room where nearly all of the other detainees were in their bunks. It was quite late.

"You say the Minister came through here this morning?"

Harry nodded. "He's been through here once or twice before but it worries me because we've been here for two weeks now. They must be preparing to make a move of some sort."

Lupin agreed. "I suggest you be on your guard. Things could unwind quite quickly and you'll need to be on your top form."

Shortly after Harry said good night and settled in for his fifteenth night in the detention center.

"I hate sleeping here," he muttered to himself. Not only were the bunks hard and cold, but he also hated the quiet. All his anxieties came to the surface and it was no easy matter to put them aside to get some rest. Eventually he did fall into an uneasy sleep only to be abruptly woken up three hours later.

"Harry, wake up!" a familiar voice whispered urgently. "Come on!"

Had the moment come? Instantly awake, Harry fumbled for his glasses but as he turned to climb out of his bunk his blood ran cold. He was face to face with Ron Weasley.

Cursing his wandlessness, Harry grabbed a fistful of Ron's scarlet Ministry robes and pulled him in closer. "How dare you?" he wanted to scream but rage choked off all volume in his voice.

"You treacherous, vile rat! How dare you come around here? You cowardly traitor! How do you sleep at night?"

"Harry," Ron squeaked.

"Do not say my name!" Harry roared. His closed fist made contact with Ron's face, knocking him to the floor. Blood spurted from his former friend's face.

"Harry, please listen," Ron pleaded from the floor. He spat out a tooth. "Voldemort's here! He's at the Ministry. They're going to bring you to him tonight."

Ron struggled to his feet and Harry could see that he was practically sick with fear and something else.

"They are going to kill you! Ron exclaimed wildly. "They are going to give you to Voldemort and he's going to kill you. No wands. No duels. Nothing. He is just going to murder you." He gasped for air. "You have to get you out of here."

The precariousness of Harry's situation put his grudge against Ron to the side. He scanned the room. All four of the guards were stunned and the force field was obviously breached but nothing else appeared out of order.

"How did you get in here?"

"Well, I used my Ministry credentials to gain entry to your floor then I locked and silenced the door on my way up. When I got up here I approached each guard and surprised them with a stunning spell. After that, I used the Ministry counter spell I stole off my brother and took down the force field."

Harry was stunned. "You did all that? On your own?"

"I'm just as good a wizard as you – just not the Boy-Who-Lived," Ron muttered. He stopped short at the sight of Remus Lupin rushing over where the force field had once been.

"Ron," he said distastefully. "What are you doing here?"

"It's tonight," Harry informed him. Ron's just told me that they're coming tonight. We have to get out."

Lupin looked at Ron suspiciously but did not argue. "What's the plan?"

"There's a secret exit through that wall," Ron said pointing to the back wall which was covered in bricks. "The Ministry uses it to move high-profile prisoners through the center. I don't know how to access it but I thought we could figure it out."

"What's beyond the door?" Harry asked.

"A long staircase and a corridor, a couple miles of fields, a stream where you could apparate and the woods if you need to hide. We could slip you out before they even realized." Ron pulled out four wands. "I got these from the guards." He passes them around. "The other goes to Hermione."

"That's if we can even manage to break through," Lupin muttered, clearly unimpressed with Ron's plan.

"I'm not leaving these people," Harry declared. "There's no reason we can't all make a break for it this way."

Ron looked panicked. "Time! We can't get everyone through. The guards do checks every thirty-three minutes. They'll notice that this floor is locked off. And even if we did make it through, they'll be sitting ducks trying to make it across those fields."

"He's right, Harry. Two people can sneak out maybe but it would be reckless to send these people out defenseless."

Harry was adamant. "I'm not going to sneak off in the middle of the night and leave the Lovegoods to be executed." He looked Lupin in the eye. "And you wouldn't either!"

Defeated, Lupin offered no further argument. "If we can get them some wands…"

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking," Harry muttered tapping his wand on his chin. He and Lupin both turned on Ron who paled.

"How am I supposed to get them? There's no time and, in any case, they're not just sitting out. I can't do it."

"You're the only one who can try and you're going to try," Lupin said harshly. He pointed his wand at Ron. "We have less than 30 minutes to get all these people out of here with wands."

"But how?" Ron whined.

"Use your Ministry credentials," Harry shot back sarcastically.

"Do we understand each other, Mr. Weasley?" Lupin asked, his wand pointed steadily at Ron.

Ron nodded and started back downstairs. They heard the door lock behind him. Harry and Lupin looked at each other, afraid to voice the obvious question. Can he be trusted?

They immediately set to work waking the others and trying to open the secret exitway with only a few wands. Mr. Lovegood, Rita Skeeter and Remus Lupin concentrated on figuring out which magic would reveal and unlock the door based on Ron's stolen information while Harry organized and briefed the other prisoners for the escape.

"I vill go last," Viktor Krum announced. "I am deserving to be here after vat I did at Hogwarts. Imperius Curse or no, I haf hurt many."

"No one's getting left behind," Harry reassured him but the clock was ticking and the exit had not been breached nor had Ron returned. He was becoming very anxious.

"Ah, there it is," Mr. Lovegood cried. "The door!" There was some muffled cheering as Lupin used the counterspells Ron had given them to unlock it. If only Ron were back with the wands!

"Professor, I want you to go on ahead and contact the Order," Harry said. "They can send some people out to cover the escape."

"Right, I'll run out as far as I need and send off a patronus and then I'll come back for you."

"No," Harry disagreed. "You must stay there and assist the people when they come out. It won't take long for the Ministry to realize they are losing prisoners – they'll have soldiers out it no time."

"What if this whole thing is a trap?" Luna asked, appearing from seemingly nowhere. "What if they snatch Remus the minute he sets foot out of this place?"

Harry frowned. He had not thought of that scenario. Leave it to Luna Lovegood.

"If I am apprehended," Lupin said calmly, "I'll try to leave you a sign not to follow." He dug in his pockets and pulled out a silver pocket watch, the very one Tonks had given him for Christmas at Grimmauld Place. "If you see this, you will know it is not safe to go on." He showed it carefully to Luna who nodded.

"I hate to leave you, Harry. Be careful!" he said emotionally.

All Harry could think of was their rapidly diminishing window of time. Where was Ron? As if on cue, a door slammed shut and Ron sprinted in looking ashen. He carried a locked chest.

"You did it!" Harry cried in relief. "How'd you manage it?"

"Don't ask about that – just get out!" Ron cried urgently. He flung the box against the wall and it smashed into pieces. There was a shower of rainbow sparks and the floor was littered with wands.

Harry heard a clang from the door Ron had just come through. His heart jumped into his throat. Thrusting a wand into Luna's hand, he pushed her towards the secret exit.

"Luna, lead them out of here!"

She froze. "But what if Remus' watch is out?"

Harry blinked. The clanging was more pronounced. What could he say? They were committed. There was no turning back now.

"I don't know, Luna. I guess we go to prison," he blustered.

Smiling weakly, Luna pulled the hair out of her face and called for the detainees to follow her.

While Harry frantically passed out wands, Viktor Krum kept watch at the entranceway doors. How long would it be before they broke?

"Ron," Harry snapped. "Go and get Hermione." The first ones out of the building would have the best chance of escape. Once the guards discovered the escape route, the field would be covered with wizards and they would have to fight their way through. Hermione was not the strongest fighter and he wanted her in front.

"No, "Hermione protested. "I'm staying with you, Harry. I won't leave you. We're friends," she added pointedly to Ron whose lip seemed to quiver just a bit.

"Death Eaters!" Krum cried. "I am knowing that voice. Igor Karkarov! They haf come for us."

It was down to the four of them, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Viktor Krum and Ron Weasley. Escape seemed impossible. The guards and Death Eaters were nearly through and would follow them right down through the exit.

No one knew what to say. They were trapped, their fates sealed.

"Harry, you need to get out of here," Ron declared. "Take Hermione and go."

"But they'll just grab us!" Hermione cried. "There's nowhere to go."

Ron scanned the room. "I can give you the time you need. We'll barricade the exit with these bunks."

"Yes, that vill vork long enough to get you two out," Viktor agreed.

Harry hesitated. He stared long at Ron.

"Harry, get out of here!" Ron insisted.

Hermione was frozen in her tracks and Harry had to pull her physically through the exit. He could hear the bunks being moved in front of the exitway and then he heard the guards and Death Eaters break through. He did not want to do it but he forced himself to look back. Viktor and Ron were huddled behind the barricade exchanging spells with the enemy. They were hopelessly outnumbered.

"Come on, Hermione," he urged. "I can feel the night air. We're almost out."

She pulled away but Harry prevented her from looking back at the scene which might give her nightmares for years to come.

RonWeasley and Viktor Krum were managing to hold back the forces as best they could. They had killed several guards but the Death Eaters were proving more difficult. Spells were raining in upon them and it took all their concentration to avoid being hit.

"Do you think they are out now?" Ron asked Viktor.

He nodded. "Yes, but into vat have they valked?" He shot a stunning spells at a Death Eater who was getting a little too close.

Ron screamed in pain and grabbed his elbow. "Listen, Krum, I want you to follow them. Everyone's going to be looking for Harry Potter and Hermione's with him. I want you to make sure she gets away."

Krum's face was alive with emotion. "No, I vill not leave. It is you who should go after Hermy-oh-niny. Maybe it is you who is the better wizard."

"No," Ron started to argue when a large crash brought down the barricade. He lay trapped and crushed beneath it. A trail of blood poured out of his mouth. His eyes began to roll in their sockets. "Besides," he gasped, "it is you who are the better man."


	57. Chapter 57

Chapter 57

Author's Note: Thanks so much to Adge and ExcessivelyPerky. I cherish your reviews. And yes Ron is the sacrafice, just like the chess game

"We'll never make it!" Hermione gasped, her eyes widening at the sight of battle raging in front of them.

As Harry had predicted, the Ministry forces covered the fields, as well as a fair few Death Eaters. Lupin must have managed to contact the Order because several of their members were there, aided by those Resistance members who had chosen to remain and fight rather than make good their own escapes. The night sky was lit up by spells and the screams and moans of wizards echoed across the field.

"We'll never make it," Hermione repeated in a voice rising with panic. The prison alarm went off, emitting a high-pitched screech and flashing light.

Harry too had his doubts, but tightening his grip on his wand, he plunged into the crowd.

"Yeah, we will," he insisted.

Although he originally hoped to disapparate when they got to the stream he now doubted they would be able to do so.

"We'll head towards the stream and hide out in the woods until we can disapparate safely," he told her.

Hermione cast a shield charm just as a fireball was about to hit her. "We better get moving. We're sitting ducks as long as we stand around here."

With that they began their perilous bid for freedom. Their wands were in constant use warding off unfriendly spells and attempting to disarm and disable their enemies. Although Harry had been in a number of skirmishes while with the Resistance, he had never been involved in anything this intense. Hermione, who had less experience than he, seemed to be holding her own but Harry feared what would happen if anyone realized who they were. His identity was lost amidst the confusion and he prayed it would remain so.

Hermione sighed angrily from behind. "I just can't hit him!" she cried in frustration.

Harry turned to see what was wrong.

"That Death Eater," Hermione indicated. "He's been trailing us and no matter what I've thrown at him, he's managed to block it."

"I'll get him," Harry told her confidently. They paused and Harry pointed his wand at the Death Eater who at this point was well behind them. In quick succession he fired off a disarming charm and a full body bind. Surprisingly neither one found their mark.

"Let's keep going," he muttered and they ran forward a few more paces. Then, without warning, he turned and threw out several more hexes. At first, he thought hat he had been successful. There was a billowing of black robes but when the light flashed again they could see that the Death Eater was unaffected and as menacing as ever.

"Impressive," Harry murmured.

"We'd best try to lose him."

They started running left in an attempt to lose their foe in a darker area of the field but Harry was unnerved at the Death Eater's prowess.

"Do you think its Bellatrix Lestrange?" he panted fearfully when they paused to catch their breath.

"I hope not but I'm pretty sure we passed Shacklebolt on our way out here. He'll be looking out for us."

Although Harry knew that there were a number of people covering their escape, he also knew that it was up to him and Hermione to save their selves

"We better press forward," he told her, "but we'll stay to the edge of the field. I think the darkness will camouflage us a bit."

Continuing towards the stream, the pair kept looking over their shoulders. They were unable to shake the Death Eater behind them. With a thud, Harry fell to the ground and his wand flew out of his hand and into the woods beside them. He groaned in pain.

"My legs!"

Hermione waved her wand over him. "Your ankles have been bound together. Stay still. I know the counter spell."

"Hurry up! That Death Eater is coming up quick!"

"I'm going as fast as I can," Hermione shot back. When she had finished, she pulled him to his feet and they plunged into the woods to retrieve Harry's wand.

As soon as they crossed the tree line, Harry realized they had made a terrible mistake. Here they were hidden from all the other wizards and they were already down a wand. Harry pulled on Hermione's sleeve to turn her around.

"We have to get out of here!"

But when they turned, they the Death Eater was just yards away and running towards them.

"Come one!" Hermione cried, plunging deeper into the woods. "Run!"

Harry wondered how much longer they could run. His chest burned with every step and Hermione was falling behind. Finally, he felt the force of another spell knock him down and Hermione tumbled over him her wand disappearing into the darkness.

The Death Eater stepped over casually, wand pointed at the pair of them.

"Well, well, well, what have we here? Surely not the Boy-Who-Lived?"

The clouds shifted revealing a sliver of silvery moon which lit up the scene. Harry cursed himself for allowing the Death Eater to lure him into such a vulnerable position. Hermione's head was buried in his chest and she was sobbing. He held her tightly. Whatever the Death Eater planned he hoped it would be quick.

"Here I have you all alone. What ever shall I do?" Mocked the Death Eater.

Suddenly there was a scarlet flash and the Death Eater was immediately disarmed. The force of another spell slammed him against a tree. The Death Eater reeled.

"He is not alone!" Remus Lupin shouted sprinting towards them. He had his wand at the Death Eater's chest before he had even regained his footing.

"We're saved!" Hermione cried.

Harry sighed with relief and felt a rush of gratitude. Lupin had gotten there in the nick of time.

"You and Hermione get yourselves out of here," he told them as he rolled up his sleeves.

"But our wands-" Hermione started to protest.

"Shh!" Harry silenced her. There was an odd steely look in Lupin's eyes that Harry had seen only once before. Lupin's wand was still trained upon the Death Eater in front of him.

"Please understand," he said calmly, "that under other circumstances I would make every attempt to turn you into the proper authorities."

Hermione tensed up beside Harry. They both knew what Lupin had to do.

"Ava-"

"No, please, Remus! Please!"

There was a collective gasp. The voice was not the one the Death Eater had used before but one which was very familiar to the three people gathered there, especially to Remus Lupin.

Lupin staggered slightly but his wand remained steady. "Take off your mask," he ordered but Harry detected a definite change in the pitch of his voice.

Underneath the terrifying mask was the heart-shaped, tear-stained face of Nymphadora Tonks. Lupin looked stricken. He swayed slightly and his wand, still pointed at Tonks' heart, began to shake.

"You've joined up with Voldemort?" Lupin asked uncomprehendingly. "You're a Death Eater now?"

Tonks murmured incoherently. She looked ashamed and tears coursed down her face.

Lupin's wand continued to point at her chest while Harry and Hermione watched the scene with stunned horror.

"I know what you have to do," Tonks cried, "but I want you to know that you're the only man I ever loved and I thought you loved me too. Was it all a lie? Just tell me before I die. Was it all a lie?" Her tears fell freely.

Lupin was clearly fighting for control. His wand was shaking badly and his own eyes were filling with tears.

"Please, Remus," she begged. "Tell me you loved me. Tell me it wasn't all a lie."

Finally Lupin broke down. "It wasn't a lie, Nymphadora," he blurted through his tears. "It wasn't a lie."

In that instant, before Lupin could even react, Tonks lunged forward and wrested the wand from his grasp. Her tears evaporated and an evil smile spread across her face. She pointed the wand directly at Lupin. There was dead silence.

"Well, Remus," she finally said. "It appears that the tables have turned. Will you beg me for your life?"

"I will not plead for my life," he answered grimly. "But I will beg for Harry's. If this is between you and me, then let's end it that way. Let Harry and Hermione go."

Tonks surveyed him carefully, threw her head back and laughed cruelly. "Do you really think that this is about us? Let me guess … poor Tonks. Without your wisdom and experience to guide her she just fell in with some bad influences at the Ministry and ended up doing a lot of things she never intended to do. She was just too young and inexperienced to understand what was happening. That's how she got mixed up in that incident with Ginny Weasley."

Lupin did not answer but from the look on his face it was plain that that was exactly what he thought.

"What I don't understand, Remus, is how you could possibly think that after she wound up dead and you discovered that I gave her the potions, taught her the Dark Magic, did everything but push her into the Dark Lord's arms."

Harry shook with fury. Here was Tonks confessing to everything with Ginny and he could do nothing but stare down the end of her wand.

"A man's judgment can be clouded when there are feelings involved," Lupin muttered.

Tonks cupped her chin and batted her eyelashes. "Just like the Ministerial Gala when I insisted on going with you even if it hurt my career all because I couldn't bear to be parted from you."

Lupin flushed deeply. Harry heard Hermione groan beside him. He wished with all his being that they did not have to be here to witness his humiliation. It was too cruel.

"Every time you touched me my skin crawled," she said with disgust. "It was my most distasteful assignment for the Dark Lord – seducing the werewolf! And not just any werewolf, Dumbledore's pet werewolf at that."

"Why would you do that?" Hermione blurted out. "Why would you do anything so hurtful?"

"Your professor knows why," Tonks replied. "I can see it in his face. He's finally worked it out."

There was a significant change in Lupin. His face had lost all color and his eyes were full of horror. His whole body seemed to draw in on itself. Harry too was shaking with anxiety, torn between reaching out to Lupin and anger over his weakness.

"You don't care to enlighten us, Professor?" Tonks laughed. "Very well. Allow me. I don't mind telling the story. After all, it's elevated me to the Dark Lord's greatest servant."

Harry and Hermione stared at her open-mouthed. How could the woman they had spent so much time with be reveling in the service of Lord Voldemort?

"You seem surprised, little Miss Know It All."

"Not entirely," Hermione murmured.

"I always hoped that the Dark Lord would come back during my lifetime. I rejoice now that it has happened and I can sit by his side as his most trusted servant." Her eyes glowed with excitement.

"Now you have distracted me from my glorious story." She chided. "You see, I had watched Lupin that first year the Order was reformed and I knew where he was vulnerable. I knew that I could manipulate him to gain information if necessary. So I started cozying up to him. When it became apparent that he had information about Potter's protection at Privet Drive I knew that I had scored a major victory for the Dark Lord."

Harry felt the hairs stand up on the back of his neck. He knew what was coming next. Lupin must have known too. He was motionless but looked decidedly ill.

Tonks grinned maliciously. "So after a few kisses and whispered 'I love yous' he would have told me anything. And he did. He told me the protection depended upon the house and Lily Potter's sister. We tried it out on the Muggle husband. He left the house and we attacked his workplace. A lot of Muggles died but most importantly Vernon Dursley died. We now know how the protection worked. So thanks, Remus, I owe you one."

Lupin turned his head to the side and vomited.

"Oh, Remus," Tonks mocked. "You're such a man. You really turn me on." She blew him a kiss as Lupin gasped for breath.

I wish she would just kill him, Harry thought and it seemed a monstrous thought but what she was doing was nothing less than torturing Lupin and he could not bear to watch.

"But the uncle was really the test case. We hoped to attack at Christmas but Potter did not return to Privet Drive so we had to wait until summer. We lured the aunt out of the house, spilled her blood and voided the protection. She and her son were both killed but we missed out on Potter. Until tonight that is." Tonks surveyed the three of them. "Who would have thought that I would be the one to kill Harry Potter? My name will rival Severus Snape's!"

"Severus Snape's reformed," Hermione interjected quietly. "You could be too. Dumbledore-"

Tonks laughed. "You think Snape is reformed do you? I spent last night with him. Check the papers for what happened in Walford and you'll see how reformed he is."

This is it, Harry thought. She's going to kill us all.

But no sooner had he thought this than the tree behind Tonks burst into flames. Tonks jumped away scanning the area warily but the attack had come from the sky. Bellatrix Lestrange was floating aloft with her enchanted tiara.

"Nymphadora Tonks," she cried wrathfully. "You are a traitor to the Dark Lord and to me. You will not leave here again. Not until the vultures come and carry you away as carrion."


	58. Chapter 58

Chapter 58

"Think again, Aunt Bellatrix," Tonks cried with a wave of her wand. Bellatrix came crashing to the earth. "You're the one who won't be leaving here alive. Crucio!"

Bellatrix rolled out of the way of the curse and leapt to her feet. She looked like a woman possessed as she rounded on her niece.

Harry and Hermione exchanged looks of disbelief. Although it had seemed impossible, their situation had become even more grave. While Lupin surreptitiously dug around the ground for a wand, Harry sat frozen unable to take his eyes off the duel in front of him.

Tonks had taken some sort of injury to the stomach and was bleeding profusely but it did not seem to impair her.

"Give it up, Auntie. You were the Dark Lord's past. I am his future!" She threw off several more spells and Bellatrix fell to the ground clutching her throat. For a moment Harry thought that it was over but Bellatrix quickly countered the spell and took to the skies again. Fire rained down from her headpiece igniting the ground around Nymphadora Tonks.

"I am his past, present and future!" she bellowed. "He has freed me from Azkaban, preserved my singular beauty and will crown me queen when the rightful line is restored to the throne in Hogwarts."

Harry and his group drew back as far from the flames as they could. His mind was working feverishly on a plan of escape, knowing that if they made a break for it they would be killed instantly. Still, he did not fancy burning to death or waiting for the winner of this duel to finish them off.

"Did you see where any of the wands fell?" Lupin muttered under his breath.

Hermione pointed glumly past Tonks indicating that they were all beyond their reach.

Tonks and Bellatrix continued to battle feverishly. It was unclear who had the advantage. Both had sustained injuries but both continued to argue over who was more valuable to Lord Voldemort. It soon became clear, however, that Tonks' ambition was to replace Voldemort as the most powerful living wizard.

"I knew it!" Bellatrix cried. "You are not only a traitor but a fool if you think your powers rival those of the Dark Lord."

Tonks scoffed and summoned a cockatrice to attack Bellatrix in the air. Bellatrix struggled with it momentarily and blood gushed as it sank its poisonous fangs into her arm. With a sickening snap she broke its neck and hurled it to the ground.

"Treachery to the Dark Lord is punishable by death. Tonight I mete out judgment and punishment. Tonight you die, my sister's folly."

Suddenly all of the trees burst into flames, making escape all but impossible for Harry and his friends. Lupin desperately searched for a way out of the fire.

"I think we're just going to have to run and take our chances."

Harry gaped at him. Was that the only way? All he could see were flames and all he could hear were the twisted taunts of Tonks and Bellatrix. He felt sick with fear.

Lupin pulled a shell-shocked Hermione to his side and wrapped her in his cloak.

"Okay, Hermione, you'd better make a start. Keep low to the ground and-"

"No, no I can't!" Hermione cried. She was frozen with fear and no amount of prodding from Harry or Lupin could get her to move an inch.

It finally came to Harry that they were not going to get away – at least not all of them. But at that moment when all seemed lost, Viktor Krum emerged from the fields and through the fires. His left arm was broken and blood was caked on his sodden prison robes. His face was swollen but resolute.

Hermy-o-ninny, I haf searched long these grounds for you, fighting every meter and looking even into the faces of the dead. But here I haf found you and I will bring you home."

"Viktor!" Hermione burst into tears and threw herself into his arms.

"Do you have a wand?" Harry and Lupin asked together.

Viktor nodded. "Vat is this?" he asked when the duel finally caught his eye.

"We'll tell you later. If you and Hermione want to disapparate out of here, we'll find our own way out," Harry told him.

"I am finding vands on the ground. I bring them because I am fearing you are being disarmed maybe," Krum explained handing Harry a long wand.

Harry sighed with relief. "You and Hermione can side along and the professor and I will follow. We'll meet near Hogwarts. Madam Puddifoot is friendly to the Resistance."

"Good man, good vizard." Viktor reached out and shook Harry's hand briskly. Then he slid his arm around Hermione and disapparated.

They were saved, almost. Harry turned to Lupin but found he had wandered back over to the thick of the duel. There was a mad cackle from Bellatrix Lestrange and a flaming brand soared through the air into Nymphadora Tonks, pinning her to a tree. It was a fatal wound. Tonks gasped and sputtered before going limp. Bellatrix bellowed triumphantly while Lupin just stared and stared.

"Professor!"

He turned to Harry as if he had forgotten he was there. His eyes were haunted and they ran across Harry's face without even seeing him.

Bellatrix had spotted them by now and shouted Harry's name. Grabbing Lupin roughly, Harry disapparated just as a fireball came hurtling toward them.

Hogwarts was, of course, being watched so it took a good part of the day to sneak Harry and his friends in and get them treated for their injuries. There was no telling who had escaped as the Resistance had done what it did best – scatter and disappear.

Viktor had sustained the worst injuries but made no complaint.

"I am promising that I find you," he explained. "I am promising myself and I am promising Ron."

They all exchanged glances. No one had given much thought to Ronald Weasley after all that he had done. But there was no denying that he had taken a grave risk in setting them free. Harry asked Viktor if he knew what his fate was.

Viktor hesitated. "Ve vere holding them back but not for long could ve do this. The barricade was not strong. I am thinking that ve vill die there but Ron he tells me I haf to find you, to find Hermy-o-niny. I am no coward, I think, but I left him just as the barricade fell. He vas the hero this night, not Viktor Krum."

It was as Harry had suspected. Ron had sacrificed his life in order for them to escape. He wished he could grieve for him openly like Hermione but Harry found himself torn. Did that last redeeming act wipe out his terrible betrayal? Or, on the other hand, did that terrible betrayal erase all their years of friendship?

"I'm sure in time, you'll remember him as a friend," Lupin said quietly as if he had read Harry's thoughts. It was one of the few times he had spoken since they had found safety. Harry looked back at him blankly. He did not know what to say to him about any of it – not Ron, not Tonks, certainly not about anything that Tonks had said. Lupin, for his part, looked quickly away in a transparent attempt to avoid any such discussion.

"I need to see Dumbledore," he explained. "Get some rest. You deserve it." He plodded miserably out of the room and Harry took his advice.

He woke up later that evening and, after everything that had transpired in the last 48 hours, he anted some time alone to think so he put on a cloak and headed out onto one of castle balconies. It was a beautiful, starry night but rather chilly, a typical October evening. When he stepped outside he realized that someone else had had the same idea as he – Luna Lovegood. He had heard she was staying at the castle.

Luna stood with her back to him looking out over the castle grounds. Her hair was blowing in the breeze and she shivered in her thin prison-issue robes.

"You ought to be wearing your cloak on a night like this," he said as he approached her.

She turned to him and shrugged. "My cloak? I don't even have a cloak." There was an edge to her voice that Harry had never heard before.

He was puzzled by what she had said and the manner in which she had said it.

"I guess I have one somewhere." She waved her arms breezily. "In some hideaway hovel or snagged on a tree near some skirmish. Scattered along with everything else I used to own. I only have two things really – my Dad and this- this cause."

Harry's expression turned sympathetic. She spat out an unwanted every flavor bean and mashed it into the stone floor with her shoe.

"Doesn't matter. They're the two most important things anyway." She turned her attention back away from Harry.

They stood there looking at the stars and listening to the night sounds for quite some time. Then Luna, without even a glance at Harry, informed him that her father had gone missing. Harry's heart sank. He feared the worst but tried to reassure her.

"There was so much confusion. Maybe he hasn't had the chance to check in with anyone."

She did not buy it. "He's the Head of the Resistance and he hasn't reported in to anyone?"

Harry sighed.

"Besides we have a special signal. He always checks in with me no matter what. That's why I came out here. I thought maybe the magic in the castle might be interfering." She shook her head.

This was terrible news. Of all people, Harry assumed Mr. Lovegood would escape without difficulty. But then again it was more likely that he had stayed to fight.

"Listen, Luna, if we find out he's in prison again-"

Luna shook her head. "He's the most wanted wizard in the country. They are not going to bother recapturing him. Besides, you saw what it was like. Those guards were aiming to kill."

Not knowing what else to do, Harry suggested they go back inside the castle. He wondered how long she had been standing out here. Luna refused. She wanted to stay in case her father tried to signal her.

"Very well. I'll wait with you then. Shall I?"

"No," she answered softly. "I prefer to be alone."

Nodding sadly, Harry made to leave. Luna suddenly looked very small standing against the railing with her arms pressed tightly across her chest and he wished there was something he could do for her. Pulling off his cloak, he draped it carefully around her shoulders. She reached up and clasped his hand when it brushed her shoulder. Nothing was said and Harry stood behind her until she withdrew her hand and pulled the cloak tightly around her. Reluctantly he turned; leaving her alone in the dark to wait for a signal which would never come.


	59. Chapter 59

Chapter 59

"Forgive my interruption, Headmaster. I had just received word of a massive prison break and I wanted to see if the rumors were true."

"Well, Severus, you can see that they are indeed true. I've just been getting the full story from Harry here who's a bit bruised but no worse for the wear. Isn't that right, Harry?"

But to Dumbledore's dismay, Harry was staring speechless at Snape whose appearance was much altered of late. His sallow face was no longer bloodless and his eyes and cheeks had lost their sunken appearance. He reminded Albus of a vampire who had just fed. He hoped Harry would not notice the hungry look in the former Death Eater's eyes or the constant way he fingered his wand.

Yes, Snape was slipping before their very eyes but what could he do? It was he who had set Severus Snape upon this path and he could only hope that recent developments had come in enough time to turn the tide.

Dumbledore quickly dismissed Harry.

"I'm glad that you have come to me, Severus for there were several developments that occurred last night and once Voldemort hears rumor of them, you will most certainly be summoned."

Severus nodded stoically to convey his comprehension of the situation's gravity and Dumbledore plunged straight into what he had been able to gather from his witnesses.

"We have been compromised more than we could have guessed. Our former Order member, the Auror Miss Tonks, has been a Death Eater since Voldemort's return."

Severus shook his head as if he did not believe it.

"I realize that she was involved in that Ginny Weasley incident. But to say that she is a full-fledged Death Eater and no one noticed? You will pardon me for asking but are you certain, Sir?"

"I am afraid the evidence is irrefutable," sighed Albus. "Needless to say, she has managed to gain much valuable information by infiltrating our ranks." Pulling off his glasses, the old wizard rubbed his temples wearily. "In fact it was Miss Tonks who discovered the nature of the protection at Privet Drive."

"Discovered? Discovered from whom?" Severus demanded leaning forward.

Albus sighed. This was an emotionally charged issue and he did not want to invoke the name.

"Lupin! Remus Lupin! He told her!" Snape cried jumping to his feet. "He's responsible for the deaths of Petunia Dursley and her family!" His eyes grew wild. "Does he realize that he very nearly killed Harry Potter?"

"Voldemort is responsible for their deaths," Dumbledore said forcefully. "As was Nymphadora Tonks and Remus is all too aware of the suffering he inadvertently caused. I've already spoken with him and clearly he is a tormented man."

Severus snorted derisively. He was about to comment further but Dumbledore stopped him.

"What is past is past. By now you should have guessed what is obvious to me. That Nymphadora Tonks is the spy who's been plaguing you by impersonating Claudia Moody. After all, as a Metamorphmagi, she would have the ability to change her appearance at will.

The mention of Claudia Moody had its usual effect but, although Severus was becoming more anxious, he did not seem entirely convinced.

"It will also interest you to know that she and Bellatrix Lestrange ignored a wandless, defenseless Harry Potter to duel between themselves over their positions in Voldemort's ranks. Just as you set them up to do."

"And which one, may I ask, was victorious?"

"Bellatrix Lestrange. Nymphadora Tonks is dead." Dumbledore leaned back. "Voldemort will undoubtedly be summoning you very soon and this incident with Tonks and Lestrange is certain to come up."

To Dumbledore's surprise, Severus was clearly displeased and dismayed by the outcome, in spite of the obvious advantages to the Order.

"If Claudia is dead, the evidence against me will reveal itself to the Dark Lord," he murmured anxiously.

Dumbledore marveled at his spy. He still was not getting it. There was no Claudia, only a diabolical Nymphadora Tonks who had manipulated rumors about Severus Snape to her own advantage. Still she had somehow managed to bewitch Snape completely with a ring she had likely stolen from Alastor Moody's own home. It was small wonder that Snape himself had not betrayed the nature of Harry's protection. He put the tips of his fingers together.

"There is no evidence against you. I-"

Suddenly Severus went very white and he grabbed reflexively at his left forearm. Anxiously he looked at Dumbledore. He had just been summoned. Dumbledore got up and crossed over to him.

"It is for this test that I took your memory," he reminded him gently. "When he questions you, you will be prepared."

Severus Snape's heart leapt into his throat when he realized that he had been summoned into the Dark Lord's private chamber. Bellatrix Lestrange was already there, kneeling before her master, maskless with unruly hair. Snape took off his own mask and knelt beside Bellatrix. She, who normally reveled in the Dark Lord's presence, looked extremely nervous and that terrified him.

"My lord, I have come," he announced but the Dark Lord was pacing around angrily with no interest in the usual formalities.

"I can see that, Severus," he snarled. "I suppose word has reached you by now that Harry Potter has once more eluded us."

Severus nodded non-committally.

"And now I come to find out that one of my most faithful servants is dead." He paused rather dramatically. "At the hands of one of her sisters."

He looked down menacingly at Bellatrix who squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze. Snape watched them with an air of indifference which seemed only to infuriate the Dark Lord.

"I am supposed to think you care nothing for this matter then?" the Dark Lord said. "Why is it then that your name keeps coming up in my investigations?"

Bowing his head, Severus strove to maintain an air of nonchalance while still trying to be respectful of the Dark Lord. "As you know, my lord, I did not kill Nymphadora Tonks but I hardly think it a great loss to you. Yes, she had her uses but she is spent now and hardly a faithful servant. You, my lord, are all knowing so you will have known about her ambitions to overthrow you and to gain the knowledge of immortality, even though that knowledge is barred to all but you." Severus turned his black eyes up to the Dark Lord's. "Why she even tried to get me to kill Bellatrix."

Bellatrix hissed angrily at his side.

"Of Nymphadora's treachery I was, of course, well aware but I am surprised, Severus, that you were able to remain so cool caught up in the middle of a power struggle between two of my most powerful children."

Bellatrix grinned at her master but she was ignored. Apparently the Dark Lord was still displeased with her. Murder of a fellow Death Eater was treason, not tolerated except in a few cases.

Severus shrugged. "My lord, I need hardly concern myself with their petty jockeying for position. After all, it is I who am your most trusted servant. I who was chosen while still a child at play in my mother's house."

The Dark Lord looked bemused but Bellatrix was anything but. She turned defiantly towards Snape and let out a stream of mad ravings.

Without hesitating Severus backhanded her savagely across the face. She fell to all fours.

"Bellatrix, dear sister, remember whose presence we are in," he reprimanded.

Anyone could see that she was seething with anger but kept her tongue. The Dark Lord laughed his terrible laugh and surveyed Severus appraisingly.

"I can see it in your eyes, Severus, that which Dumbledore has so long denied you – the power of the Dark." He seemed very pleased and he smiled his twisted smile at Severus who was more than a little surprised at how smoothly things were going.

"The Dark Arts," he murmured, running his long, thin fingers across his wand. "Without them, Severus, you are no more than an empty shell."

Severus cringed inwardly at the words he was beginning to find were true.

"I knew, way back during your parents' Dark Ritual. I knew it would be so and yet you exceeded even my expectations." His pacing had lost its intensity. He was reminiscing now and taking Severus along with him. "Oh, there were times, I must confess, that I doubted you."

"My lord," Snape protested. "I have always-"

His master waved away his protests. "Yes, I feared when I returned that you had become the old man's stooge nor could I ignore the rumors that you were there at the Moodys' when my best team was killed." He smiled. "Ah, well, one must always question one's followers, especially when they are as slippery as Lucius and as treacherous as Nymphadora but I need not question you, Severus. I knew from the beginning."

He reluctantly dismissed them. There were other servants to be dealt with, the servants who were responsible for allowing Potter to escape once more and they would be dealt with harshly, very harshly.

Could it really be this easy? Severus marveled as he and Bellatrix took their leave. He was at the door when she spotted it.

"Look, Severus! It's Nymphadora's owl."

Snape was gripped by a wave of fear. Was this the evidence Claudia had said would reveal itself in the event of her death? Dumbledore had assured him there was no such evidence. He could not move. He felt paralyzed as he quickly tried to shut down his mind.

"Severus!" the Dark Lord bellowed from behind. "What is the meaning of this?"

Snape turned slowly back to see the Dark Lord brandishing a hand-written scroll of parchment. He feigned ignorance.

"My lord, I assure you-"

"You dare lie to me?" Snape was knocked to the ground. "To my very face?"

"Whatever Nymphadora Tonks has written, it's just another one of her attempts to discredit her fellow Death Eaters to serve her own interests. It's just as Bellatrix said."

Bellatrix Lestrange looked utterly bewildered but nodded in agreement to more of Tonks' treachery.

"I would be inclined to agree with that," the Dark Lord said quietly through bared teeth, "except that this refers to the very event I have had such nagging doubts about. Where were you the night Moody's wife died? Did you let Lily Potter live?"

"My lord, I've told you before," Severus gasped.

"You've told me what before? More lies? Did you think you could deceive the Dark Lord?" He threw a curse at Snape who grabbed his chest.

"Why would I let Lily Potter live?" he muttered. "The wife of my enemy and a filthy Mudblood? I killed Mudblood like her by the dozens just for sport."

Voldemort glared down at him.

"If he is not being cooperative, Master, shall I use the Cruciatus to loosen his tongue?" Bellatrix leered from above.

"I do not need your assistance, Bella," he declared coldly. "Besides that has failed to loosen his tongue on other occasions. Other tactics have become necessary. Get up, Snape!"

Severus pulled himself up shakily. He had a bad feeling about where this was going and he could only hope that Dumbledore had been right in his estimations.

The Dark Lord pointed his wand squarely at Snape. "I am going to ask you one more time, Severus. Where were you the night your team raided the Moody cabin?"

In an attempt to formulate an acceptable response, Severus allowed his mind to return to the day in question. He had just failed a mission for the Dark Lord and had earned his wrath. He was standing before him just as he was now and then suddenly he was on the ground writhing in indescribable pain. It seemed to go on forever and when it was finally over Severus found he could remember nothing further.

His mouth went dry. The Dark Lord was eying him expectantly and all he could say was that he could not remember.

"My lord, I was punished severely that day. I would have been incapable of undertaking such a mission and consequently unable to remember."

"My memory is as good as it ever was," the Dark Lord said. "It's time we tested the accuracy of yours."

He brandished his wand and before Snape could even react he felt an insistent pull into his consciousness. Although Severus was a superb Occlumens, this occasion called for a different response. Since the memory in question was missing, Severus had to allow the Legilimens access while he surreptitiously began to close down other areas of his brain which could be compromising. The assault began immediately.

"Do not resist me, Severus," he hissed. "Or your mind will be as broken as the Longbottoms'. I promise you that!"

Forcing himself to relax, Snape opened himself up to the cold presence inside his consciousness. For a moment it felt as if he had accidentally walked through the Bloody Baron only this sensation would not end. It took all of his resolve not to fight it and he realized how weak Potter must have been to allow the Dark Lord actual possession.

The same scene between him and Voldemort kept rising to the surface. He was on the floor and he could almost feel the pain again.

The Dark Lord was clearly not satisfied. He tried to force himself further into Snape's mind but to no avail. There was nothing there and another memory would float up to the surface – Snape being summoned, Snape being told of the raid and Snape being shocked.

With every renewed attempt Severus felt an icy spike driven further into his head. He wanted to push the Dark Lord out but he dared not do so. Finally, Voldemort himself realized that his attempts were futile. He released Snape who staggered backward gasping. Severus and Bellatrix looked up expectantly.

"It is as he says," the Dark Lord announced. "Or so it would seem. I found no memory to contradict his story." He scanned Snape's face as if not entirely convinced. "Alastor Moody is apparently more deranged than even we suspected."

"But my niece's note?" Bellatrix inquired.

Voldemort rolled it up into a ball and tossed it into the air. It burst into flames and the ashes fell to the floor.

"There's no evidence in it. In fact, it contradicts itself five times over. Some drivel based on innuendo. I would have thrown it in the fire myself but I've never been at peace with Severus' part in that escapade. But we start fresh tonight, my child."

The ashes of Tonks' letter were a beautiful sight to Severus who kissed the hem of the Dark Lord's robe with vigor.

"You may go too, Bella," the Dark Lord told her. "I have other servants to deal with."

"Thank you, Master. You are truly forgiving."

He waved her away. "Yes, and I daresay you'll torture fifteen Muggles in celebration of it."

Tossing her hair, Bellatrix laughed and pulled out her wand. Although Severus should have been jubilant to have accomplished his objectives and avoided detection by Voldemort, he felt empty the moment he left the Dark Lord's chambers and he found himself following Bellatrix's laugh down a darkened road.

Albus Dumbledore knocked more insistently on his potions master's door. He had the Pensieve nestled awkwardly in the crook of his arm and it threatened to splash out each time he rapped on the door.

"Severus!"

Finally a voice from inside told him to enter. Dumbledore walked in and set the stone basin on the desk.

"I came down here as soon as I received your owl. You wrote that everything went well. Only you were not in."

Severus was in the midst of peeling off his cloak. He had only just now gotten in. Dumbledore noted the mud caked on his boots and the unidentifiable stains on his black cloak. His heart beat fast and he felt a great unease.

"As you can see, I've only just returned," Snape replied, his expression inscrutable.

"I just assumed that you would want your memory returned immediately." He waited, no reply. Finally, Dumbledore could stand it no longer.

"Where have you been?" he asked and there was no disguising the accusation in it.

Severus turned full around and raised an eyebrow. "I did not know I had to check in …sir," he replied icily.

Dumbledore swallowed. This was not going as he had planned. He dipped his wand into the Pensieve and held it to Snape's temple.

"Do not forget who you are or what you have struggled against," he whispered. "Please, Severus, do not forget who you truly are."


	60. Chapter 60

Chapter 60

After the mass prison break, things very quickly went from bad to worse. In fact, many said that the war was over and that Voldemort had won. Certainly it appeared that way. The Ministry had virtually collapsed after Albus Dumbledore supplied evidence linking Lucius Malfoy and Percy Weasley to the opening of the Chamber of Secrets five years ago. The evidence was irrefutable and with the government already in question everything fell apart. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters simply marched in and took over and no one had the strength or will to counter him. Besides, as Dumbledore pointed out he was virtually running the Ministry already. Only now they should have to call him "Minister-Who-Must –Not Be- Names," Luna had quipped.

Of course the new regime had effected quite a few changes especially at Hogwarts. Ceasing to function as a school, the castle now served as a stronghold for those endangered by the new government. Most of the students had left and the ones who remained were nearly all from targeted families. Many staff members had left to make room for the refugees coming into the castle. Even Filius Flitwick, case in hand, had left to go wherever it was that tiny men who taught charms went – or so the public thought. Those in the know knew he was going to take his place among the leaders of the Resistance who knew the war was still far from over.

"Dumbledore says he's going to get some of the teachers to instruct a couple of classes here informally," Harry told Lupin as he helped himself to a piece of chocolate. "He says I can do some Defensive stuff. Are you going to be taking any classes?"

Lupin looked up from his desk wearily. His head was pounding and he would have rather had some time to himself. He shrugged non-commitally.

"I don't know. If Dumbledore wants me to, I will."

In reality he was pleased to be relieved of his teaching responsibilities. He could not bear to face anyone after the incident with Tonks had come to light. At present, he was content to hide away in his office with occasional visits from Harry.

"It's just going to be basic stuff like I taught in DA," Harry went on, taking little notice of Lupin's apathy. "But I think that sort of thing is awfully important now and Luna's going to help me which will be good for her. The Resistance hasn't really found anything for her to do since her dad-"

"How is Luna doing?" Remus interrupted quickly, not wanting to hear anything about that night.

Harry looked thoughtful. "She's doing okay. I had breakfast with her today and she taught me this."

He brandished his wand and a tiny figure of Godric Gryffindor jumped off the end of it.

"It identifies me as a member of the Resistance," he told Lupin proudly.

"That's a nice piece of wand work but I wouldn't use it outside the castle. It's liable to get you killed."

"What?" Harry furrowed his brow.

"Call signs are notoriously poor codes. Voldemort will know all about them in two weeks." He closed his eyes trying to block out the pain in his head. "You know you can't trust anyone," he added bitterly.

"Yeah, I guess you're right." Harry put his wand away looking crestfallen.

Lupin frowned. He had not meant to be so harsh.

"What's that wand you're using?" he asked, suddenly noticing Harry's rather spindly magic wand.

"This is the one Viktor found." He hesitated. "That night. It got us home but I hate using it. I think it's a Death Eater wand and I can only guess what would come out of it if we tried Priori Incantatum. Next time I see Snape I'm going to ask him for my mum's wand back. Not that I'm using it for anything important," he added dismissively, still stung perhaps by Lupin's lukewarm reception of his newest trick.

They fell into silence. Lupin felt terrible. He should not be taking his own woes out on Harry who was obviously only stopping in to see how his miserable former teacher was faring – Harry who had more than a few of his own burdens to bear. If only his head would let up a bit. As soon as Harry left, he would run down to Nurse Pomfrey's for something.

He cleared his throat. "Actually, Harry, we used to use call signs in the Order back when your father and Sirius were members."

"Really?" Harry's enthusiasm seemed to return. "Can you show me?"

Lupin smiled. "Oh, I suppose so." He pulled out his wand just as Severus Snape appeared in the doorway with his goblet of wolfsbane potion.

"Don't let me interrupt this fascinating demonstration," he muttered, wiping the smile from Remus' face. "I am just going to set this on the mantle, though I wouldn't leave it too long."

Lupin thanked him curtly and he began to show Harry the call signs they had used for a time.

"Everyone had a different one?" Harry wanted to know. "You didn't just use a Phoenix?"

"No, because this way we knew that there were no imposters." Severus was lingering making Remus feel self-conscious. "Can you guess what your father used?"

"A stag," Harry answered eagerly, "and a dog for Sirius and a wolf for you."

"Quite right," Lupin made the old wolf sign to Harry's delight.

"How clever," Snape murmured sarcastically and Lupin flushed.

Just as Snape was about to leave the room, Harry stood up and crossed over to him.

"Professor, can I have my mother's wand back? I no longer have one of my own."

For a moment Snape looked as if Harry had punched him in the gut. Then he seemed to regain his composure.

"Your mother's wand?" He turned to Lupin with his eyes ablaze. "You mean the wand I pulled from your dying aunt's hand?"

"Er…" Harry looked back and forth between the two men, clearly uncertain of what response was indicated.

Lupin's head began to throb even more. Clearly Snape had no intention of just slinking back to the Potions room. At least he could get Harry out of here before it got ugly.

"Harry, would you run down to Nurse Pomfrey's and ask her for the pain solution she keeps for me?"

Harry agreed and departed immediately, leaving Snape and Lupin alone. Remus rose slowly.

"If you have something to say, Severus, you might as well say it now. But believe me, there is nothing you can say that I haven't already said to myself."

Snape bared his teeth. "So you know you're a traitor? That you passed vital information to the enemy? Information that caused the deaths of several people? You are aware that it is only because of Potter's inability to follow directions that he still breathes today?"

"Of course I am aware of it. Don't you think the thought of it haunts me day and night?" He fell heavily into a chair and put his face in his hands. He felt as if he was on trial and the only verdict that could come back was guilty. "I never meant for any of it to happen but I loved her. God forgive me but until that moment when she told me what she was I loved her as I had no other."

"You are a fool!" Severus thundered. "A fool to think that anyone would be anything but disgusted by a filthy werewolf."

Lupin wondered how he could respond to that. It was the truth but Dumbledore had been too kind to point it out.

Snape smirked at Lupin's obvious pain. "I knew you were weak. I told Dumbledore not to give you any information about Privet Drive but you know him and his trusting ways."

"Yes, I do know about his trusting ways, Severus, as I believe, should you," Remus remarked pointedly. He should not have said it. Severus' eyes widened with fury. He went for his wand, then stopped himself but pointed an accusing finger directly at Lupin.

"You gave the whole game away, all for a cuddle from some fetching girl!"

"No," Remus protested. "It wasn't like that. You have to understand. She was very upset and I …" He stopped himself. Why was he even telling Snape this? He knew better now. She had manipulated him. "I was duped."

"You were duped?" Severus repeated incredulously. "I have stood before the Dark Lord at his most wrathful and denied any knowledge of the protection. I have undergone torture numerous times but I kept my silence and you sit here and tell me you were duped by a woman ten years younger than yourself?"

Lupin felt very inadequate and had nothing to add. He let his mind wander back to the night Privet Drive was attacked and he sensed Severus was doing the same. Amid all the confusion, one thing always stood out in his mind – Severus cradling and comforting Harry's dying aunt. It was a side of Severus Snape he had never seen.

"Severus, Lily's wand …I know it means something to you but rightfully it belongs to Harry."

Severus pulled him to his feet and looked directly into his eyes. "What did you say?" he demanded.

Instinctively, Remus tried to look away. "I just mean... well, I thought that you and Lily Potter-"

"Evans!"

"Right," Remus said nervously. He should have known better than to bring this up. "I just mean. Well, I had always thought that you had feelings for her – back at school."

Snape drew back abruptly, nearly causing Remus to lose his balance. He balled up his fists. "Is that what you thought?" he asked softly but dangerously.

"I asked you a question!" He thundered when Lupin declined to respond.

Lupin just stared at him. What answer could he possibly give the man that was going to make him any more rational?

"You know nothing!" He sputtered careening backwards into the mantle. The goblet of wolfsbane tipped and threatened to spill but Severus grabbed it and held it in his trembling hands. Then he flung the goblet at Lupin, narrowly missing his head. It bounced off the wall behind him, spilling its contents and soaking Lupin in the potion.

"You know I think you're more use to us as a werewolf than a human," Snape said coolly. "Then maybe you'd spend your time killing actually the enemy instead of making love to them."

Harry returned only to find Lupin slumped miserably in a chair dripping with wolfsbane potion.

"What happened?"

"There's been a bit of an accident with my potion," Lupin answered wryly.

Harry's eyes fell on the broken goblet on the floor. Clearly, there had been no accident. Snape and he must have had words. He took out his wand and siphoned the potion out of Lupin's robes. Lupin, who had been depressed since that night with Tonks, had not even bothered to clean it off of himself.

"Aren't you going to need more potion?" Harry asked.

"Yes, well, I shall have to ask Professor Snape to make me another batch." He did not sound convincing and Harry suspected that he had no intention of approaching Snape. In fact, it was far more likely that Lupin would spend the afternoon locked in his office feeling miserable.

"Well, I wouldn't put it off too long," Harry told him, playing along because he had nothing else to offer. "Snape will be grumpy if he has to start from scratch."

The wolfsbane potion, however, was too important to be let go and Harry found himself heading towards Dumbledore's office to sort it. Truth be told, Harry was getting a bit tired of Lupin's avoidant behavior. Although he felt quite bad for him, he could not help but think that he should be doing a bit more than closeting himself away feeling sorry for himself.

It only took a moment to explain what had passed to Dumbledore who agreed to take care of the matter.

"But you seem upset," Dumbledore observed. "Have you had a row with Professor Lupin as well?"

"No, but…" Harry shrugged. "Well, of course, I feel badly for him-"

"But you cannot forget that it was he who, unwittingly or not, betrayed you to the Death Eaters." Dumbledore surveyed him calmly over his half-moon glasses, inviting confidences.

Yes, that was exactly how Harry felt. "I know Aunt Petunia wasn't much but she needed protecting and Dudley …" Harry shook his head. "How could he have told anyone about that protection? How could he?"

"You say that out of anger and it is natural to feel that way but there is another part of you which still pops into his office." He paused and his eyes twinkled. "Who comes to tell me when our volatile potions master is making things difficult."

Harry smiled slightly.

"I know things are difficult now but I also know that you friendship with Professor Lupin is strong and can survive this."

Harry nodded. It did not seem appropriate to bring up Lupin's reclusive behavior but Dumbledore must have sensed what he was thinking. His eyes twinkled.

"It may be, Harry, that he'll need you to remind him that you are the last two Marauders."

Harry smiled. Considering himself dismissed, he rose to leave when he noticed a small table in the office he had not seen before. It was covered with empty glass vials and potion bottles. Harry stopped short.

"Are you sick, sir?"

"No, Harry, just old age."

Harry stared at him in confusion. Hadn't Dumbledore already told him he was extending his life artificially? Dumbledore regarded him thoughtfully and asked him to sit back down.

"I wasn't going to tell you this, Harry, at least not yet, but the potions seemed to have stopped working-"

"Tell me what, sir?" Harry asked with great trepidation.

Dumbledore leaned back and put the tips of his fingers together. "At the end of term I told you that I had been extending my life magically. Now I must tell you that I no longer possess the means to do so."

Harry gaped at him, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

"Yes, Harry, to put it succinctly, I'm dying," he said calmly.

"What? After all this time? We need you," Harry blurted out. He could not believe what he was hearing.

"I have told you that it was my intention to live until Voldemort was vanquished. However, I was forced to destroy my Sorcerer's Stone to keep it out of his hands – an outcome which would have been disastrous."

This outcome seemed disastrous. "But I don't know how to defeat Voldemort. I need your help."

Dumbledore seemed relatively unconcerned. "We still have some time and I believe that we may be able to use my condition to our advantage."

Harry did not see how. He felt Dumbledore's office in despair. In fact, he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he collided with Neville Longbottom who was just on his way into see Dumbledore. Books scattered everywhere.

"I'm so sorry, Neville. I wasn't paying attention," Harry mumbled picking up books. "I'm glad to see you, though. I didn't realize you were staying at the castle. Is your Gran here?"

"No," Neville replied. "She wanted me to stay and finish my studies."

"Your studies? There aren't any classes." The last time Harry had seen Neville he was courting expulsion. He never expected to see him back at the castle and on his way in to see Dumbledore whom he hated.

"I know. I'm studying with Dumbledore." He looked a bit uncomfortable.

Harry glanced down at the books Neville had been carrying. He could not read the titles of most of them. They were in runes. The other one said something about Occlumency. Neville grabbed them out of Harry's hands as if he were hiding them.

"Neville, what on earth are you studying?" Harry was completely befuddled. Neville had never been a good student and these subjects seemed well beyond his reach, as well as impractical.

"This and that. Listen, Harry I have to go but I wanted to tell you that I heard about how you led that prison break and saved those people. That was very brave." His voice seemed to falter. "You've always been brave. I hope I have your bravery." With that he disappeared up the staircase.

Harry did not know what to think. The whole encounter made no sense. Why was Neville still at Hogwarts? Why was he being so evasive and why on earth was Dumbledore teaching him Occlumency?


	61. Chapter 61

Author's Note: Well I can not believe it, but it looks like the beginning of the end of The Alchemist's Shield. We are getting to the nitty gritty now with less than ten chapters left! Thanks to all my faithful readers and reviewers and a giant thanks to my typist and editor Lady Evenstar.

Chapter 61

"Severus," she whispered. "No, it can't be true." Her voice played in his mind a hundred times a night since Dumbledore had restored his memory. He would run out into the corridors but there was no way for Severus to flee from himself or what he had done. Without that memory he had slipped back into his old ways with little remorse but now, just as that night long ago, he saw through Lily's eyes what he had truly done and every dark deed committed in the past months became a source of torment.

Often he would close his eyes and remember how he had held her that night. "Lily Potter," he would breath, "know from this day forward, I am your protector. I shall keep you safe even if all other things fail."

He slammed his fist into the wall and his knuckles bled. While he thought that he had come to terms with Lily's murder, the pain now seemed fresh and the deaths of the Dursleys, her only family, lay heavily upon him. Only her son was left and Dumbledore had warned him long ago that Harry Potter's connection to the Dark Lord took his fate out of their hands.

He could reproach himself a thousand times but nothing could alter the past. The only way he could stay true to the vow he made to Lily now was to aid Dumbledore in his fight against the Dark Lord. For it was Dumbledore who had ultimately turned Snape around when he was still struggling against the lure of the Dark Arts and it was only in his work that Severus hoped to find some sort of redemption, however ill-deserved. His loyalty to the old wizard and his unwavering fight for the right was all Severus Snape had left to him.

It was at his request that Severus found himself once more at the Serpent's Fang in Knockturn Alley, anxious for information about the Dark Lord's plans. Everyone knew an attack on the castle was a certainty but no one could imagine how such an attack could be conceived. Opening the door, he scanned the room before entering. It was packed with witches and wizards, more than Snape had seen in a long time. The Malfoys, of course, were not there. Lucius had been thrown into prison with Percy Weasley over the Chamber of Secrets scandal and the Dark Lord had not see fit to release him, payback for the prison break. Draco and Narcissa had disappeared after that and their fates had become a constant topic of conversation.

It was a shame for Severus who had worked to build a rapport with Lucius. He was always good for information, unlike Peter Pettigrew who Snape found sitting at the end of the bar. Pettigrew waved at Snape who glared contemptuously back. He absolutely refused to work with Pettigrew under any circumstances. Never could he forget that it was he who was the Potters' secret keeper and had betrayed them to their deaths and it took every bit of self-restraint that Severus possessed not to kill him where he sat.

Over in the corner there was a bit of commotion. Bellatrix Lestrange, dressed in lacey black robes, was dancing on a table while a small mob of Death Eaters, including Crabbe and Goyle, looked on eagerly. There was a certain energy emanating from the area and Severus felt attracted to it. He fingered his wand, savoring the warmth but at the same time fearing what would become of him if he strayed back into the Dark Arts. He was struggling now but if he went back there would be no return. He would be as dark as Bellatrix herself.

Striding across the room he offered his hand to Bellatrix. Everyone stepped aside, eager to make a path for the legendary Severus Snape. She took his hand and he assisted her off the table, leading her away from all the attention. Igor Karkarov followed which was fine by Snape. Karkarov had been in the Dark Lord's favor since setting up the raid which had lead to the destruction of the Sorceror's Stone.

"Severus," Bellatrix exclaimed, sounding slightly tipsy. "We haven't seen you here in weeks, not even to celebrate the Dark Lord's overthrow of the Ministry."

"Yes, well, the old man's been keeping me busy setting up his new kingdom, the Muggle safe haven." Snape rolled his eyes.

"What a crushing bore," Bellatrix said raising her hand for another round of drinks. "You could be having so much more fun with us."

Snape sniffed. "Yes, well, one must do one's duty for the Dark Lord, even when it involves cozying up to a sanctimonious, self-righteous blood traitor like Dumbledore."

They all nodded and raised their glasses in a toast to the Dark Lord.

"Sanctimonious," Igor repeated. "How very true. He thinks he's the savior of the wizarding world. What I fail to understand is why so many wizards buy into that. His record is hardly unblemished; that affair with Black and Pettigrew for instance. I was shocked when I heard of it. He hung those two out to dry."

What was Karkarov talking about? Severus looked puzzled, whatever misinformation Karkarov was laboring under, it had never reached him but Bellatrix seemed to confirm the story.

"I don't think Severus knows about that," she told him. "It happened when he was already spying on Dumbledore and the Dark Lord was anxious that Dumbledore be unable to comb it from his mind."

"What are you two talking about?" Snape finally asked.

"Black and Pettigrew and the Fidelius Charm," Karkarov responded.

"And the Potters? Yes, Black claimed to be the secret keeper but it was a ruse. Pettigrew was the real secret keeper and gave up their location."

"See," said Bellatrix. "He doesn't know. To this day he doesn't know."

Karkarov laughed. "That's what living at Hogwarts will do for you."

Now Severus' curiosity was piqued. "Another drink, Bellatrix?" he offered smoothly.

She nodded and he ordered her up something strong. "Now I must hear this tale in its entirety."

Bellatrix seemed to hesitate. She glanced at Karkarov who shrugged.

"Come now," Severus urged. "If it's showing Dumbledore in a poor light, what could be more amusing?"

She set down her empty glass. "I suppose there's no harm in you knowing now. In fact you should know about it because it's one of the Dark Lord's proudest days. The day he outsmarted Albus Dumbledore."

Anxious to keep her from going into one of her tangents, Snape jumped in. "Very well. We know that Peter Pettigrew was made the Potters' secret keeper. Why don't you start there?"

"Because that is where you are wrong," Karkarov interjected. "Peter Pettigrew was never the Potters' secret keeper. He just thought he was."

"It's true," said Bellatrix. "Pettigrew came back from the castle, all puffed out saying Dumbledore had performed the Fidelius Charm and that he was the secret keeper. Of course, the Dark Lord was delighted but there was one problem. When asked, Pettigrew was unable to reveal the Potters hiding place. Obviously the Dark Lord was infuriated and Rudulfus and I were called in to try to get the information out of him with our special talents. Nothing. Finally, the Dark Lord used aggressive Legilimancy to find out what had happened."

"And what had happened?" Snape inquired.

"The reason Pettigrew was convinced that he was the secret keeper was that Dumbledore apparently performed a fake Fidelius Charm on him. When the Dark Lord looked inside his mind, he saw the charm being performed but missing vital components."

"Peter Pettigrew, the fool," muttered Karkarov. "He's still convinced he was the secret keeper."

"This is nonsense," Severus asserted. "There was a Fidelius Charm in place. You should know this, Bellatrix. No one could find them. No one."

"There was one in place alright," Karkarov said.

"Then who was the secret keeper?"

"Albus Dumbledore," Bellatrix answered with a twisted little smile. "Think about it. The Dark Lord was relentless in his attempts to find them. Dumbledore would have thought he was the only wizard capable of such an undertaking. He used Peter Pettigrew as a decoy so that even Sirius Black would not know who the real secret keeper was."

"But Sirius Black went to prison. Dumbledore testified against him at his trial," Snape protested.

Igor Karkarov nodded. "That is what I'm saying. He allowed Pettigrew to be tortured, drove him to murder and exile and allowed Sirius Black to be sent to prison all to protect his secret."

All to protect his secret. Something about those words shook Snape momentarily as he thought about some of the sacrifices Dumbledore had felt compelled to make to keep his plan. But no, this scenario they were telling him was preposterous.

"The Potters were betrayed," Severus reminded them. "And if Dumbledore was their secret keeper, he would have had to have betrayed them. He would never have done so."

"Not willingly," Bellatrix admitted. "But this is where it gets good. Once the Dark Lord discovered that Pettigrew was a plant, he realized who the real secret keeper must be and, with a little bit of research and quite a bit of polyjuice, he was able to disguise himself as Sirius Black."

"So?" Snape could not see where this was heading.

"So, the Dark Lord walks into Hogwarts disguised as Sirius Black and seeks an audience with old man Dumbledore. Can you picture it? Dumbledore sitting two feet from his worst enemy and not even knowing it. The Dark Lord had him so completely fooled that all he had to do was ask where the Potters were and Dumbledore calmly told him over tea and scones."

Impossible, thought Severus as Bellatrix droned on. It was inconceivable that the Dark Lord, even in disguise, could meet with Dumbledore undetected. Yet she seemed so sure of her facts.

"But Dumbledore would have known that Black would think that Pettigrew was the secret keeper. He would know that Black would not have come to him for information he could not give."

"Yes, that part of it never made sense to me either," Karkarov confessed.

Bellatrix dismissed them. "It should have been his finest hour, the day he outsmarted Albus Dumbledore, but, thanks to Lily Potter's foolish sacrifice, it became disastrous. The Dark Lord lost his body and all that brat Harry Potter got was a mark on his forehead."

Severus felt a sudden chill. "What did you say?" he asked dumbly. "Did you say mark?"

Bellatrix and Karkarov both looked at him strangely. "Yes, Severus, a mark, a scar, whatever it is that's got everyone thinking he's the Chosen One."

And the Dark Lord shall mark him as his equal. The words of the Prophecy rang in his ears. The problem was Harry Potter was not the chosen one. Neville Longbottom was. Yet Harry Potter was clearly marked by the Dark Lord. Was it possible that Dumbledore had orchestrated this whole event to make Harry look like the Chosen One? He had taken great pains through the years to do just that, giving Harry special treatment, protecting him at all costs, even telling Harry that he was the boy the Prophecy referred to. Still that did not compare to this. People's lives were lost, ruined. It just could not be. But what else would explain the Dark Lord appearing before Dumbledore undetected? Had he truly been hoodwinked?

Severus began to sweat profusely as his mind raced.

"Are you alright?" Karkarov asked. "You look terrible. Here, have a fire whiskey. I know it's very warm in here."

"Yes, Igor, I'm fine," he lied. It came down to one thing, he decided. Did Dumbledore truly believe that it was Sirius who came to see him on the night in question? Because, if he did not, if he realized it was an imposter and still revealed the information… Snape quailed at the thought. It was more than he thought he could live with.

"I still don't believe it," he told them, forcing himself to remain calm. "Three must have been some means of security in place. Anyone can impersonate anyone using polyjuice."

"There was," Bellatrix told him. "They had these call signs they would flash with their wands."

Snape nodded. He was familiar with them. He had just seen Lupin teaching them to Harry Potter.

"But we figured them out. So as soon as the Dark Lord approaches the old fool, he pulls out his wand and makes the sign of the phoenix."

"A phoenix?" Snape stared at her uncomprehendingly.

"Yes, a phoenix – that's the sign of their supposedly secret organization," Karkarov supplied needlessly.

"They all used the same sign?" Snape gasped. It felt as if the room were closing in around them.

Bellatrix nodded. "You should ask the Dark Lord about it. He still brags about it. He told me he approached the old man and flashed the sign of the phoenix. He did say Dumbledore looked a bit odd at first – grim was what he said – but then he invited him to tea and scones. The Dark Lord says that was the most enjoyable tea he ever had, the day he hoodwinked Albus Dumbledore." She raised her glass unsteadily to toast him once more and Severus' glass clinked with hers but he could not speak.

It should have been a dog. He knew the truth now and it cut him like a knife. Dumbledore had been the Potters' secret keeper and he had knowingly betrayed them.


	62. Chapter 62

Author's note: Because my regular posting date falls on Harry Potter day. Yep the last book!  I am going to try to post it on the day before. Thursday July 19. See you then.

Chapter 62

"Did you want me to come back another time, sir?" Harry asked as he entered the Headmaster's office. Early mornings were usually Dumbledore's preferred meeting times but today he looked very drawn and was resting his head on his desk.

"No, Harry, it's just these frosty morning. They make an old man's bones ache. Come sit down."

Harry frowned. He did not like reminders of the Headmaster's failing health. Plus, he had the sense that he was intruding on something.

Dumbledore smiled slightly. "Yes, Harry, it is a bit more than that. Professor Snape went out on a mission last night and he has yet to return."

Now Harry was alarmed. He knitted his brows to imagine what was keeping the Potions Master.

"It's not for you to worry about," the old wizard assured him. "Tell me, how are people responding to your defense classes?" Are you finding Luna helpful?"

Harry relaxed, glad to be speaking about a more positive topic. Luna and he were having great success instructing their charges and he was getting a lot of practical experience which he hoped would be important when it came time to face Voldemort.

"It does not surprise me, Harry. I always suspected you were a born teacher." He reached into his mammoth desk and pulled out a bag of lemon drops which he offered to Harry. "Keep it quiet," he told him. "They've become quite difficult to come by. Professor McGonagall managed to find these for me but you know how restrictive things have been of late."

Taking a sweet to be polite, Harry tried to steer the conversation towards more serious business.

"Sir, what we were talking about last time …even if I mange to defeat Lord Voldemort what is to prevent him from returning again?"

"An excellent question. You see Voldemort was able to prevent his death by splitting his soul."

Harry did not understand. "But how can we prevent that from happening again?"

"Ah." Dumbledore put the tips of his fingers together and looked contemplative but before he could respond the door to his office flew open and Severus Snape charged in.

His wand was leveled at Dumbledore and he threw off such a powerful spell that the force of it rushing by knocked Harry out of his chair backwards. Dumbledore was thrown into the air like a rag doll. He collided with the stone wall and crumpled to the floor.

Harry was too stunned to do anything but stare at Snape whose eyes were blazing. He looked possessed. Before Dumbledore could react, he was tossed back into the air but this time he was pinned to the wall.

"How dare you speak to that boy?"

Snape thundered but by now Dumbledore had managed to pull himself together and Severus, reacting as if burned, was thrown to the ground. Dumbledore fell to the floor and found his footing just as Snape recovered his. Now shaking violently was shaking violently now as he attempted to throw another spell at a befuddled Dumbledore. Nothing happened. The old wizard had cast a circle of protection around himself.

His inability to attack Dumbledore further seemed to frustrate Snape immeasurably.

"I wish I were half the wizard that Sirius Black was. Then I might possess the power to hold you accountable for what you've done," he spat.

Harry started. Snape and Sirius' loathing for each other was absolute. To hear a statement like this from Snape was inconceivable. He looked over at Dumbledore who appeared extremely disturbed but evidently not shocked by Snape's statement.

"Severus," he said calmly. "We both know that this is not the time for this particular conversation." He glanced significantly at Harry.

Snape would have none of it. "Potter stays. He is the most affected. It's time he learned the truth."

Harry swallowed. He wanted truth but not like this, not at the end of a crazed Snape's wand.

Now Dumbledore did look scared, terrified even, of what might come out of Snape's mouth. "Severus we will need to discuss this certainly, but don't throw away everything we've worked for," he pleaded. "We can talk to Harry later."

"Isn't seventeen years long enough?" Severus paced the room wildly. He reminded Harry of a caged animal. Finally he stopped at the little table where Dumbledore kept his potions. "Is this why I've been making the Draught of Peace? So you can live with what you've done?"

As if relieved to be using his wand on something, Snape destroyed the potions one by one. Bits of glass flew across the room. Harry warded them off with his wand.

"What peace was there for Sirius Black?" he demanded.

Struck again by the use of his godfather's name, Harry looked questioningly at Dumbledore.

"Severus, I'll listen to whatever you wish to say to me but I must insist that Harry not be witness to this."

Finally Snape relented. "Very well. Potter, you hear the Headmaster." But as Harry was leaving he heard Snape quite clearly say, "But do not think your words have any sway over me now."

"I know you've had a shock and you are undoubtedly confused about a number of things," Dumbledore began.

"Shut up!" Snape bellowed. He was literally shaking with fury. "Shut up, old man! I – I can't listen to you anymore." His voice broke. "I believed in you. I thought you were the only one whose motives were just."

Dumbledore looked stricken. "Severus, if you'll just listen to-"

But Snape could not listen. He could not get past this betrayal. If it had been anyone else but Albus Dumbledore…

"I left the Dark Lord's service to join your side and you made me believe that I could change, that I could make amends."

"But can you not see, Severus? You are a changed man."

Severus ignored him, fighting to keep his self-control. "But for you I fought and killed and stained myself further. I hated myself for it but I trusted you, knowing that you would not ask me to do it unless it was absolutely necessary for the downfall of the Dark Lord."

Severus drew a long breath. "I never believed in using Potter as a shield but I let myself be led because I believed in you and your plan. I had to after she died."

Dumbledore's face was full of anguish but for once he was silent. He did, however, lower the circle of protection around himself. Severus had lost the will to attack him now. He was devastated. It was as if the bottom had dropped out of everything.

"And you knew! You knew my feelings for Lily. It's what brought me to you in the first place but you betrayed her. You betrayed her and came to me and said that there was nothing that could have been done." His face contorted with grief and rage. "You killed her!"

Tears fell easily from the old wizard's eyes, disappearing into his silver beard. "It is a burden I've carried a long time. You cannot know the anguish I feel about it. You think her face haunts you? Believe me, Severus, I do my penance every time I look in that boy's eyes."

Snape was unmoved. "Harry Potter is not a boy and he will hear the truth."

"Yes, he shall but first I must explain myself to you. Then you can go on hating me as I likely deserve."

Snape glared at him, a little taken aback by his resignation. He started to take a seat, planning to at least hear him out when a new fever struck. He had been thinking quite a bit about Sirius Black. Black had wanted to protect the Potters as much as Snape had wanted to protect Lily. Even though Snape had detested him, he realized now just how badly Dumbledore had used him. Besides being racked with guilt over the Pettigrew switch, he had been jailed and turned into an outlaw. Now that the truth was out, Black was dead and could do nothing to address the affronts done to him and the Potters. There was one more individual in that group, one man who needed to know the real story.

"I'm getting Lupin!" he declared and rushed from the room.

Responding to the frantic raps on his door, Remus Lupin discovered an extremely agitated Severus Snape. He had seen Snape angry and even frightened but this was different. Snape was positively distraught. Lupin's first thought was Dumbledore. He had been getting much weaker and was certainly not a young man. Had their leader died during the night? Lupin's mouth went dry.

But Snape asked instead about Harry. "Has Potter been up here today?"

Remus shook his head. He was confused and concerned.

"You and I are going to see Dumbledore," Snape announced. "Now."

He never used Dumbledore's name. It was always Headmaster or Sir. What is going on? Lupin wondered as they made their way into the Headmaster's office.

Dumbledore looked nearly as bad as Snape did. There was a palpable tension in the air and no greetings were exchanged.

"Are you going to tell him or shall I?" Snape demanded.

Lupin glanced quickly between the two of them. Such rudeness and such – was it hatred?

"Tell me what? Remus asked warily, focusing on Dumbledore but Dumbledore seemed unwilling or unable to answer him.

"He was their secret keeper," Severus blurted out. "The Potters'," he added when it became clear that Remus had no idea what he was referring to.

Remus felt the color drain from his face. "No," he told Snape. "That can't be true." He paused to let Dumbledore jump in but he remained silent. A cold feeling crept up Remus' spine. He stared at Dumbledore. "That can't be true."

"Yes, Remus, I am afraid that Severus is correct. I was their secret keeper."

It was incomprehensible. All that had come from that Fidelius Charm when the most powerful wizard on the planet had been in control of it. What possibly could have gone so wrong that he had been forced into giving up the Potter's secret location?

Snape quickly filled him in about the fake Fidelius Charm placed on Pettigrew, Dumbledore's eventual betrayal of the Potters and his false testimony against Sirius Black.

Lupin was shell-shocked. He simply could not process the information he was receiving. Albus Dumbledore, champion of the righteous, had knowingly betrayed Lupin's best friends, his family really. It could not be real.

"Why?" he croaked through his constricted throat. "Why?"

"Because I believe – I still do – that it was our only hope to vanquish Voldemort permanently."

"I knew it!" Snape muttered through clenched teeth. Still in the dark, Lupin demanded further explanation.

"You will remember the Prophecy I spoke to you about concerning Harry?"

As if Remus could forget it.

"Well, the Prophecy does not actually refer to Harry," Snape interjected.

"What?"

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Yes, the Prophecy was worded in such a way that it could mean one of two children. I knew immediately which child the Prophecy referred to but held out little hope that I could protect his identity until he was strong enough to defeat Voldemort. Then I saw the answer right before me. If I could get Voldemort to believe that Harry Potter was the chosen one, I could keep the other child safe."

"So Harry is not even the child referred to in the Prophecy? You told a fifteen-year-old boy that he was responsible for ridding the world of the Darkest Sorcerer who ever lived and it wasn't even true? Don't you see how much danger you've put him in?" Lupin was furious. He felt like running out of the office, grabbing Harry and disappearing for good. It was as if Harry was a fly trapped in an elaborate web and Lupin had unknowingly collaborated to put him there.

"Calm yourself, Lupin," Snape said. "There is more to come and, while I have my suspicions, I want to hear Dumbledore's explanations."

Dumbledore rubbed his temples wearily. "As you are aware, Severus, the prophecy states that the Dark Lord shall mark him as an equal. So I need to stage an incident where Voldemort did indeed mark Harry and the sooner the better."

"And so you told the Dark Lord where the Potters were hiding," Snape supplied. "But how did you know the curse would rebound?"

"I couldn't know for certain," Dumbledore conceded, "but I studied enough of the old magic and I spoke to Lily Potter a great deal about it as well. She knew they were in danger and would have known that a mother's sacrifice may be enough to save her child."

Lupin was incredulous. "James and Lily were killed and it was a lucky chance that Harry even survived!" He leapt up fully intending to strike Dumbledore but he was so old and fragile-looking that he couldn't bring himself to do it. Spying Dumbledore's massive wizard chessboard, he smashed it to the floor. "These are real people we are talking about, not pawns on a chess board! And that mark on Harry you felt was worth two lives is hardly nothing! It's a direct connection to Voldemort!"

"Yes, I know," Dumbledore sighed. "I could not have guessed that result. It is a complication that part of Voldemort's soul residing in Harry's."

Remus settled into a pained silence. All these years he had followed Dumbledore blindly and encouraged Harry to do the same. Never could he have imagined that he was capable of such a terrible deed.

"I've had t o make some difficult decisions during this war," Dumbledore lamented. "But none so difficult as that. It haunts me to this day."

"It was not your decision to make," snapped Snape.

"Yes, it was," Dumbledore insisted cryptically. "But please remember that it was Voldemort who killed them and that Lily and James would gladly have given their lives for the cause."

I cannot believe he just said that, marveled Lupin. Did he really believe that? Still, what was to be done now? As appalling as it seemed, they did need Dumbledore to win the war. At least Harry would be spared the burden of facing Voldemort.

"I know I have no right to request anything of either of you," Dumbledore continued in the same mournful tone, "however I must ask that you allow me to speak with Harry about this before you do."

"Out of the question," Snape asserted. "You will lie to him as you have to us."

Remus did not respond initially. He ran his hand wearily through his hair. He tended to agree with Snape but the thought of breaking this to Harry was gut-wrenching.

Dumbledore seemed to sense his conflict. "Remus, what do you think? I assure you I will tell him what I have you and you can certainly confirm that with him. I only want to discuss the Prophecy with him in greater detail so that he can understand his part."

Lupin did not like the sound of that. "I won't give you my word on that. Harry's my main concern and I'm beginning to see that he's not yours."

He ignored the old wizard's pained expression. But Dumbledore seemed to want to explain himself further.

"Please understand gentlemen, your loyalties are to those you love and it should be so. But I, I am responsible for all of the wizarding world and have had to make decisions for the greater good, even if they are painful to me."

"I don't understand why you've put so much faith in this Prophecy. I thought you were against them on principle. Why is this one different?" Remus asked.

Dumbledore was unwilling to say.

"Typical," Snape murmured. "Do what I say and dare not question it. Albus Dumbledore's always right. Albus Dumbledore knows all. Albus Dumbledore sees what no one else can." Snape's voice was rising. "By joining with you, I helped destroy the one thing I cared about."

"Severus, Lily-"

"Stop!" Snape roared fiercely. "I can't bear to hear her name on your lips." With a suppressed sob he fled from the room.

Remus got up and followed him wordlessly. He could not articulate it but suddenly it seemed as if he and Severus Snape were strangely bonded by these terrible revelations. Still numb with shock he followed him into his chambers. If Snape knew he was there he did not acknowledge it, at least at first. He just stood by his desk staring. Finally, he turned to Lupin.

"I know she never loved me," he said, as if Lupin had thought she did. "She knew what I was … a monster." He turned back away from Lupin. "But she always treated me like a human being and that's something. That's something."


	63. Chapter 63

Chapter 63

Severus Snape was adamant that Harry be told everything before he spoke to Dumbledore and Remus, considering himself closest to the boy, thought it should come from him but, when he sat Harry down and told him how Dumbledore had lied about the Prophecy, Harry became extremely angry and upset. He was so upset that Remus did not know how to address the worst of it. He himself was still badly shaken by the terrible truth.

Dumbledore did it, he thought bitterly. Let him explain himself to Harry, he decided and reluctantly sent Harry to the Headmaster's office while he awaited his return.

Indignant and resentful, Harry had no intention of meeting with Dumbledore who likely wanted to regain control of his heart and mind. No, his only thought was to find the person he deduced was the true Chosen One, Neville Longbottom. Then maybe he could get to the bottom of things. He found him alone in the deserted library, his nose hidden in a book of Runes.

Harry stormed over ready to have it out but when Neville looked up he appeared distinctly dismayed which took Harry slightly aback.

"Do you know?" Neville asked as if he had been waiting for this day for some time.

"Yeah, I know," Harry declared, throwing himself into a chair.

"Harry, I'm so sorry," Neville said, looking even more upset. "I wanted to tell you."

"Yeah, let me guess – Dumbledore wouldn't let you."

Neville nodded.

Harry was furious. "Neville, I've been in school with you for seven years and in all that time you said nothing."

Neville furrowed his brow. He seemed confused. "Seven years? I didn't know until after the Department of Mysteries. I always thought it was you who were meant to defeat Voldemort – not because of the Prophecy but because of the scar and, well, you're the Boy Who Lived."

Suddenly Harry realized the truth. Dumbledore had kept Neville in the dark just as he had him.

"Is that why you started hating Dumbledore so much? Acting up in class and all that?"

Neville nodded. "He knew from the time I was born but he never told me. My Gran knew but that was all. Then that summer after the Department of Mysteries my gran sits me down and tells me about the Prophecy. She tells me I'm the Chosen One and that I have to face Voldemort."

That sounded awful. All too well Harry remembered when Dumbledore had told him. It had taken weeks for the new to truly sink in but, once it had, it never left his mind.

"And your Gran? Was she very upset?"

Neville paused, looking thoughtful. "I guess she was but my Gran's not the type to show it. She's all about doing one's bit."

"So when you came back for sixth year you started working with Dumbledore?"

"Yes, but it didn't go well. I hated them for lying to me all those years. I couldn't see past myself."

"So what happened to change things?"

Neville sighed. "Voldemort just got worse and worse and when Ginny died … I just knew someone had to face him and if it was going to be me, well, I was going to be sure he went down. No matter what," he added ominously.

"But Dumbledore," Harry protested. "Don't you think you had a right to know?"

"I don't like what Dumbledore did," Neville admitted, "but it really doesn't change things. If I am meant to face Voldemort, I'm meant to face Voldemort no matter how badly Dumbledore mishandled things. The plain truth is he's the only one who can prepare me for the confrontation."

Harry's anger toward Neville had evaporated. It was replaced by a new sense of respect for Harry knew well what the burden of being the Chosen One meant.

"For a long time I wished that you were the Chosen One," he confessed apologetically.

Neville nodded. "And I wished that I were you."

"Do you know how to defeat Lord Voldemort?" Harry breathed.

Neville looked fearful. "I don't think I'm ready yet but, yes, I think I do."

Halfway to the Headmaster's office, Harry realized that while he held no lasting grudge against Neville, he was far from forgiving Dumbledore. He still had a lot of questions about the Prophecy and he was determined to get some answers.

"How did you know Neville was the Chosen One?" he demanded marching into his office.

Dumbledore did not miss a beat. "Ah, Harry, I've been expecting you."

I'll bet you have, thought Harry irritably.

"How can you be sure Neville is the Chosen One?" he repeated.

"Because of a certain comet that appeared in the sky the night he was born."

For a moment Harry was puzzled. "Are you trying to tell me he's a Tirion wizard? I thought you were the last one."

Dumbledore smiled indulgently. "No, I told you I was the last of the King's Alchemists. Tirion wizards will continue to be born but without special training they will never reach their full potential. In Neville's case, measures were taken to cover any unique abilities but I always suspected that only a Tirion wizard would have the power to vanquish Voldemort permanently. What I want you to understand is why I felt it was necessary for you to think-"

Harry cut him off. "What about the Mark? The Prophecy says that Voldemort would mark the Chosen One. Neville hasn't got any mark."

"Yes, he has," Dumbledore said softly, rolling up his sleeve. "As do I." With a tap of his wand a strange mark came to the surface of the old wizard's papery skin. It was the mark of Slytheran. "We can hide it but we can never erase it. Once Riddle discovered the history of the Slytheran House, he realized the threat that a Tirion wizard would pose so he performed an elaborate spell which would mark all Tirions from birth."

"So Neville has the same Mark?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yes, but no one must ever know."

Still Harry was not convinced. "But that night he killed my parents he marked me too. How can you be sure that's not the mark referred to in the Prophecy?"

"I am certain, Harry. Please sit down. There is more I must tell you and I fear that it will be difficult to hear."

Harry sat down apprehensively. Still, he was in no way prepared for Dumbledore's explanation of what had truly passed in the days leading up to his parents' murders. He just stared at Dumbledore unable to believe that his protector, the one person Harry felt he could trust completely had used him like that. He could not even let himself think about what he had done to his parents, not here, because the last thing he wanted to do was to break down in front of Dumbledore.

Even as he thought that, however, the inkwell on Dumbledore's desk magically exploded covering the old wizard in red ink. He had not meant to do it but he was so furious that the magic was just spilling out of him.

"I daresay I deserve that and worse," Dumbledore murmured on as if Harry still cared about anything he had to say.

What he wanted to do was pull out his wand and curse him for real but, unlike Severus Snape, he knew it would be futile. He stormed out of the office, furious at what Dumbledore had done but even more enraged that he was getting away with it. Now he understood why Snape had been so frustrated. No one could touch him.

He was halfway to Lupin's chambers when he stopped himself. He knew how Lupin was going to act and the last thing he wanted right now was to commiserate with him over a cup of tea. No, he wanted to talk to someone who was willing to take some action. Severus Snape, in spite of Harry's feelings about him, kept floating to mind.

He could still picture him flying into Dumbledore with wand drawn and his wrathful words about Sirius kept ringing in his ears. Snape was right. If Sirius had known about this, he would have made Dumbledore pay.

It was then that Harry realized how Dumbledore might be held accountable but he needed help and the only person he knew who could give it was Severus Snape. Turning abruptly, he made his way to the dungeons.

Although Harry had never once sought out Snape uninvited, the Potions Master did not appear surprised to see him.

"I want you to perform a Resurrection Spell to bring back Sirius Black," he told him unceremoniously.

Snape arched an eyebrow and folded his arms. "I realize you are troubled but if I perform a Resurrection Spell, you will not get your godfather back."

Harry was undeterred. He knew of the spell's limitations. "I understand but I want him to know what Dumbledore did and I want him to hold him accountable for it."

"You want to bring Black back with all the power from that spell and bent on vengeance?" Snape asked. He was not accusatory, merely looking for clarification.

Harry hesitated. That was what he wanted but he did not want to articulate it.

"I see." Snape pulled on a greasy tendril. He seemed to be considering the matter very carefully. "A resurrection spell, any resurrection spell, is among the darkest, most forbidden branches of magic. It is unnatural, an abomination. It is evil." Snape shivered and shook his head. "I renounced the Dark Arts long ago."

"But how can we just let Dumbledore get away with everything. You said it yourself, 'What peace was there for Sirius Black?' He spent 12 years in Azkaban because of him. He died not knowing that Dumbledore had set him up and orchestrated my parents' murders!"

"If you truly want your godfather to be at peace, you will give this up."

Harry's voice rose emotionally. "I want my godfather to know what he did to my mother and -"

Severus Snape put out a hand, stopping him mid-sentence as if he could bear to hear no more.

"I swear I would do it myself," Harry uttered. "Only I don't know the ritual – but I think you do."

"I've never performed it," Snape muttered. "And if I did it now, I would be lost. The Darkness would consume me."

Harry frowned. It was only one Dark spell. As usual, Snape could read his thoughts.

"You think that because you have crossed the line a few times that you are the same as I? That I can resist their lure as you have?"

Harry knew what it was to feel the power of the Dark but he had been able to avoid falling into them for good. Surely Snape, a far superior wizard, could do the same.

Snape stared at him incredulously. "Can you still not see what I am?"

When Harry did not answer, Snape stepped closer to him and roughly rolled up the sleeve on his robe, uncovering the Dark Mark. He held it up about two inches from Harry's face.

"Do you think the Dark Lord gives these out as trinkets?" he bellowed. "I have lied and killed and tortured for no more reason than my own pleasure. I have murdered people in the most gruesome ways merely because I did not like their parentage. I have stood in a stranger's house and restrained a woman while Bellatrix Lestrange dismembered her infant child and then watched as I did the same."

Harry stared at him in horror. Of course he knew that Snape had a terrible past but he had never imagined this.

"It took me half a lifetime to claw my way out of that darkness and I will never return. Never!"


	64. Chapter 64

Author's note: I will soon be going on vacation. I will post a short installment in two weeks as scheduled, but I am not sure after that. Hopefully there will not be any delays. Thanks for reading.

Chapter 64

Severus tore off the robe he was wearing and threw it to the floor in disgust. He had not wanted to be so explicit with Harry Potter, so revealing, but he had felt compelled to impress upon him the reason he could not perform the resurrection spell – because for the first time in his life he had wanted to help him.

Not that he had ever wanted the boy to come to harm – he was, after all, Lily's son – but in their daily dealings Severus had never been able to let go of the fact that he was also James Potter's son. Even so, he did have an underlying loyalty to Potter and he realized now that he had broken that trust many times over by blindly following Dumbledore's schemes.

Whatever I can do for the Potter boy I must do it, he vowed. But the one thing the boy had asked he could not do – not for Potter, not even for Lily. It was unthinkable. Still, how could he deny the boy in light of all that had transpired? Must he break faith with Lily yet again?

If only I could but help him with the spell, Severus mused as he opened his wardrobe for a fresh robe. Hidden at the back of the wardrobe was a book containing Dark Rituals. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he reached for it and thumbed through the worn pages.

There it was the resurrection spell. He can do this, he murmured. Potter can do this. He had demonstrated resistance to the lure of the Dark Arts before. If Severus gave him the book and the ingredients, he could bring Black back himself. Quite apart from his desire to assist Harry, Severus felt a certain attraction to the idea that Sirius Black could return and hold Dumbledore accountable for all that he had done.

But to lead Harry to the blackest of spells? Wasn't that nearly as bad as doing it himself? What if he set Harry Potter upon a path he could not turn from? Was this what Lily would have wanted from him, even given the circumstances?

Snape stowed the book back in his wardrobe. Conflicted, he wondered out into the corridors, finally stopping at Dumbledore's door. He had not seen Dumbledore since he had confronted him two days ago and he did not want to see him now but some part of him hoped that the old wizard might set him on the right path as he had so many times before.

"Severus?" Dumbledore sounded surprised and slightly hopeful.

Stepping silently into the room, Severus let his eyes wander around the familiar office until they came to rest on Albus Dumbledore himself. Snape's lower lip curled at the sight of him. He had not seen Dumbledore since their confrontation two days ago but the old wizard was clearly the worse for it. He looked unrested, agitated and slightly desperate, as if everything was crumbling around him.

And it was, Snape thought with a great deal of satisfaction. Lupin would not speak to him. Harry Potter refused to see him and there would be an even longer list if more people knew the truth.

"Severus," Dumbledore said again, clearly unnerved by Snape's continued silence. He was regarding his Potions Master warily, as if trying to determine why he was here and, Snape realized, how best to handle him. The thought of it infuriated Snape.

He has not changed, he thought angrily. All he wants to do is bring me back over to his side. He does not care what he's done to me or to the Potters or anyone else. He thinks it's justified. Whatever Snape was seeking he was not going to find it here. He had best take his leave before he lost his composure.

"I needed to tell you," he finally said, "that the Dark Lord does not intend to attack the castle until you are dead." He had begrudged him that information the other day but he knew it was necessary to the cause.

"Ah." Dumbledore nodded, raising his silvery brows. He seemed slightly buoyed, as if Severus was giving him this information as a peace offering. "That is indeed vital information." He gestured towards the chair in front of his desk.

Severus, of course, had no intention of sitting down with the old man but the casualness of the gesture pushed him over the edge. For it was in this very chair that Severus had sat and recounted his promise to help Lily, a promise Dumbledore had made a mockery of. Here it was that Harry Potter had sat so many times, listening to the old man's lies. Why it was probably in this very chair that Voldemort, disguised as Sirius Black, had obtained the location of the Potters from a complicit Dumbledore.

Severus shook with rage at the thought of it. He made his decision. He would give Harry the resurrection spell. Dumbledore would pay for what he had done to them. Turning abruptly to leave, his eye fell upon the little table where Dumbledore had kept his potions before Snape had smashed them in his frustration. They had not been replaced. Perhaps that was the reason Dumbledore looked so distraught.

"Do you wish me to send up the Draught of Peace?" he asked curtly.

Dumbledore seemed surprised but definitely pleased. "Severus, that would be a godsend. I would make it up myself but I tend to be a bit heavy-handed with the moonstone."

After agreeing to send it up, Severus stepped back into the corridor, feeling strangely calm. He knew what he had to do and retreated to his dungeon to make preparations.

He had thought it might be unnerving to open the locked chest where he kept ingredients for the Dark Arts but he was untroubled. He could not think of the life he had turned his back on. He could only focus on getting Potter what he would need. He marked the spell in the book and collected the necessary ingredients in a box. Next he began to brew the Draught of Peace so that Dumbledore could sleep with his heavy conscience. Severus hesitated when it was time to add the moonstone. He added more than was called for, more than he should have, but not enough to cause lasting harm, just enough to ensure that Dumbledore would sleep quite heavily tonight.

Leaving the potion to simmer, Severus went in search of Harry Potter's living space. He was still in Gryffindor Tower but even an old Slytheran like himself had no trouble getting in, as there were no longer any passwords for Houses. After setting the box on the boy's bed, Severus pulled the bed curtains closed but he was uncertain what to do next.

Should he leave a note? He had no relationship with the boy. What would he write? Here is the means to resurrect Sirius Black but don't let yourself be trapped by the Dark Arts? Should he apologize to him for following Dumbledore's plan to use him as a decoy? Nothing seemed appropriate and Severus was about to leave when he remembered Lily's wand. Maybe it could say what he could not. He slid it under the boy's pillow and crept out of Gryffindor Tower. His potion would be about ready by now.

The time between sending up the Draught of Peace and when he suspected it had been taken seemed endless. He paced the dungeons wondering whether Harry had found the spell and if he intended to use it. Either option seemed hopeless but Severus could not dwell on it. Potter had his choice to make and he had his own plans to carry out.

When he was quite certain that the Headmaster was asleep he crept into his chambers. He had always been trusted by Dumbledore so there was no security to stop him from walking right up to the old man's bedside where he slept, blissfully unaware of the events unfolding. Severus stiffened when he saw him. How could he sleep? How could he live with what he had done?

"I trusted you," he whispered. "I trusted you with my very-"

He forced himself to stop. He had not come here for that. Dumbledore's wand lay on the bedside table and Severus reached for it. For a moment he feared the old wizard would awaken but the moonstone had done its job. He did not stir even when Severus slipped it into his heavy cloak. He took a long, last, hateful glance at Dumbledore and left his rooms, vowing never to return.

No one thought it odd that Severus Snape would be leaving the castle in the middle of a cold winter's night. It had happened many times before but this time he was not on a mission for the Dark Lord or Dumbledore. This time it was just him struggling to come to terms with what he had done. The wind bit his face as he made his way across the grounds to the willow by the lake.

Here he would wait to see what Harry Potter had chosen for the ritual had to be completed at the stroke of midnight. Pulling his cloak tightly around him, he let his mind wander back to his seventh year when Lily Evans had come to warn him about following the wrong crowd. Lily could not have known then what lengths Dumbledore would go to in order to defeat the Dark Lord, that he would one day give her and her husband up, getting them both killed just for the sake of using their son as a decoy, an act which resulted in a connection between the boy and the Dark Lord which could ultimately become his demise. No, Lily could not have known anymore than he could have known when he joined Dumbledore seeking redemption for his past. There could be no redemption for Severus Snape. He knew that now.

Suddenly there was an odd rumbling in the sky. Snape did not need to check the time. He knew instinctively that it was midnight. Two red bolts of lightening streaked out of the sky and bruised the ground which began to shake beneath him. He gasped in spite of himself. The resurrection spell had been performed. Sirius Black would be coming back.

Without hesitating Severus Snape pulled out Dumbledore's wand and held it to his temple.

"Avada Kedavra," he murmured grimly and knew no more.


	65. Chapter 65

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. They mean so much to me. Sorry this chapter is so short, but I wanted to separate from the next one. More bad news-I will be on vacation and unable to post. Look for the next installment on Friday, September 7. See you then!

Chapter 65

Harry Potter slammed the book shut in frustration. After Snape had refused to perform the Resurrection Spell he had stormed up to the library to find it himself. The only problem was that he could not seem to locate it anywhere in the Hogwarts library.

I should have known, he thought with a grimace. Dumbledore would never allow any spell books that dark into his school library. Oh yes, he is far too noble to use any such magic but he's not too noble to dangle me like bait in front of Lord Voldemort and betray my parents while letting my godfather take the wrap. After all, that's strategy.

While his earlier conversation with the potions master had been jarring, Harry was undeterred. He had left with the distinct impression that Snape had indeed wanted to perform the spell but felt unable to. Since Harry did not share his dark past, he believed that he could perform the spell with impunity. In his growing need to make Dumbledore pay, he chose to ignore his inherent connection to Voldemort and the possibility that using Dark Magic could open him up to possession as it had before.

Still, none of it mattered now. Short of approaching a Death Eater, Harry had no idea how he could get the spell. Dumbledore was going to get away with it all. Forced to abandon the search he left the library feeling frustrated and angry, but when he got to his room he was in for a shock. There on his bed was the very spell book he needed. Severus Snape had come through for him after all.

He hastily locked the door and began pouring over the ritual. It was complex, more complex than anything he had ever done and he understood now why it was so notorious. You could only summon someone back through the veil for some dark purpose and that purpose would consume them. This did cause Harry some pause. It was hardly the way his godfather had chosen to live his life but he also knew that Sirius would want Dumbledore to be held accountable for all his misdeeds and he himself could not let it go.

Just before midnight he made his way out to the castle grounds with a cauldron and spell book. The spell itself reminded him slightly of Lord Voldemort's rebirth but such was his mania that even that did not put him off. He began brewing a potion of forbidden, dark ingredients and by midnight he was ready to begin the ritual.

He needed a personal effect from Sirius Black and the only thing he had left was the two-way mirror Sirius had given him two years ago. He tossed it into the cauldron which began to hiss and spit. Pointing his wand at the cauldron, he concentrated on his rage and desire for vengeance. The more he thought about Dumbledore the more wrathful he became and he could feel it in his wand. It was shaking very hard now and he felt warmth creeping up his arm. It was exciting, exhilarating. It was going to work. On the first stroke of midnight he began to call for Sirius.

"Sirius Black, I summon you from beyond the veil. You know what Dumbledore has done. You must make him pay!" There was a clap of thunder. "Sirius Black, this is your godson. Come back to me and help me."

The winds suddenly kicked up and Harry had to fight to keep his footing. He kept calling for Sirius even as the ground began to shake. Finally a fiery red bolt of lightening hit the cauldron and Harry was knocked to the ground.

"It worked!" he told himself as he slipped into unconsciousness. "Sirius is coming back."


	66. Chapter 66

Author's Note: See you in two weeks!

Chapter 66

Harry came to just as dawn was beginning to break. His head was throbbing and when he reached up he felt a large knot where it had collided with a rock. Rubbing it, he pulled himself to his feet. As soon as he saw the scene before him, he remembered why he had been out here. The cauldron was broken, shattered into pieces which were scattered on the seared ground. Harry swallowed and his heart began to race. Where was Sirius? He saw no sign of him.

Last night he had been so sure the spell had worked. He had been exhilarated by the power of the Dark Magic but now he felt different – almost empty. It felt as if a piece of him was missing and he feared he would spend the whole of his life seeking it. Harry shuddered. Amid the debris was the two-way mirror he had used to the Ritual. The heat from the spell had melted it and when Harry peered into it, he saw his own features looking back grossly distorted. He felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach.

What would he have brought back if he had been successful? Not the godfather he knew but something dark and twisted. He was fortunate that it did not work. He had been carried away by his anger and he could see it plainly now.

After clearing up the area, Harry headed back to the castle. All he wanted to do was close his eyes and go to sleep. With most of the castle in bed he was able to get to his room unnoticed. After a few hours of sleep he could put this whole night behind him and when he got up, he would see Lupin.

As he slid between the covers, he noticed something under his pillow. Pulling it out, he recognized his mother's wand. Snape must have left it for him. That Snape would have voluntarily given up what obviously meant so much to him seemed ominous and, even as he drifted off to sleep, he could not shake a sense of foreboding.

"Albus, we need to speak with you," Minerva McGonagall called from the door while knocking repeatedly.

Dumbledore yawned and stretched among the satin sheets. He had only just awoken from the most restful sleep he had in days and he was reluctant to start another difficult day.

Sighing he pulled the bed curtains open and urged her to enter whilst he propped himself up with pillows and set his silver glasses on his nose.

It was not just Minerva. It was Hagrid as well and he looked disturbed. Dumbledore surveyed the pair expectantly.

"Severus Snape is dead," Minerva said solemnly. "Hagrid found his body on the grounds this morning."

Dumbledore was stunned. He could barely comprehend what she was saying. "Dead?" He gaped at Minerva and Hagrid in turns.

"Aye," said Hagrid. "I went out to look o'er the grounds after that big storm we had last night."

Dumbledore looked blank.

"It were a real corker," Hagrid continued. "and when I looked o'er the grounds I found his body layin' on the other side of the lake."

"Was he attacked?" he asked groping for answers.

Minerva's lower lip trembled. "Oh, Albus, he took his own life."

It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Severus Snape, his most trusted ally, had killed himself. He fell back into his pillows with his eyes closed.

"Tis hard news," Hagrid commiserated, "but we all know he weren't a happy man."

No, he was not a happy man, had never been so, but since he had left Voldemort he had at least been a purposeful one. It seemed unreal that all their work together had led to this terrible end.

He looked up to Minerva almost pleadingly. "Are you certain of this?"

She nodded. "I'm afraid so. We found the wand …" She trailed off and looked away.

Dumbledore suddenly felt sick. There was something significant in her choice of words – the wand, not his wand. He glanced reflexively at his bedside table only to find it empty. His wand was gone.

A moment later McGonagall confirmed his fears. "Heaven knows why he would use your wand," she wondered, holding it out to him.

But Dumbledore knew why he had. It was Snape accusing him from beyond the grave. You killed me. It chilled the old wizard to the core. Severus had come to him desperate and broken and he had promised the Death Eater redemption but what had he given him? Missions to lie and hurt and kill only this time they were supposed to be for the right and all the time knowing that he had arranged the death of the one person Snape had probably ever cared about.

Was he really any better than Voldemort? Voldemort had left him a broken shell of a man but Dumbledore had destroyed even that.

His eyes stung with tears. Minerva still held out the wand but he did not want to take it. It was tainted now just like his master plan. Finally he took it reluctantly. His work with this wand was not yet finished – just like his plan. There was no way to go back now.

Hagrid and Minerva stood there awkwardly wanting to say something that would make things better. But what could they say? It had always been his belief that Severus would find solace after Voldemort was defeated and people realized the real story of Severus Snape but now there could be no such vindication.

"Albus," Minerva offered timidly. "Do you think You-Know-Who found out that he was spying? Do you think he took his life to keep privileged information out of the enemy's hands?"

"Do you know what, Minerva? I think you might be right." At least he could give him this much for those that would believe it. But later, when he considered it alone, he thought it made a pretty poor legacy, built on lies like so many of the other things he had given Severus Snape.

He spent the rest of the morning closeted in his office, wanting to see no one, but eventually there was a knock and Moody presented himself.

"Alastor, this is unexpected," Dumbledore said as he rose to greet his friend.

Moody nodded. "I detected some Dark Magic last night here on the grounds. I thought it best to investigate."

Dumbledore told him about Snape.

"I guess it could have been that," he muttered. "But all indications pointed to something darker than a killing curse. Of course with Snape who knows what kind of magic he got up to."

When Dumbledore failed to comment, he continued," I guess he couldn't live with what he'd done anymore. Figures he'd take the coward's way out."

"Severus Snape was no coward," Dumbledore said sharply.

Moody snorted. "Figures you'd say that. You're always standing up for him. I never trusted him and I guess he's left you well in it. I don't suppose he brought you any useful information before running off to do himself in."

"On the contrary, Alastor. He did bring me some vital information just yesterday." Dumbledore told him about Voldemort's plan to delay an attack on the castle until his death.

Moody downplayed it. "I think we could have deduced that. After all, it's no secret you've been ailing. Of course, he would want to wait until his path was clear. It's rotten news but not surprising."

"I think it's encouraging."

"Encouraging?" Moody barked. "How long do you think this castle can defend itself without you?"

"Not long," Dumbledore conceded. "But it puts me in mind of a plan, only I'll need Potter's help. I hope I can get him to consent."

"Harry Potter? Certainly he's willing enough and has proven to be something of a force but what kind of plan do you have up your sleeve that requires a wizard who by all rights should still be at school?"

Dumbledore merely shrugged and Moody chuckled.

"One of your grand schemes, I suppose. Well, I hope this one is a bit more sound than that April Fool's prank you tried to pull on Madam Marchbanks."

"My dear Alastor, that plan was brilliant. How could I possibly know that she was raising show Kneazles?"

Moody laughed heartily. "I can still see her running down the street in that pink dressing gown."

"I don't think she ever found them all," Dumbledore added. "There was a reward posted in the Prophet for months."

"Last I heard they located one on the coast of Sri Lanka." Moody started counting them off on his fingers. "Plus, there was that one in Crete and the one in Loch Ness. And don't forget Wellington. She had to take Muggle transport all the way to New Zealand."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Oh, Alastor, you can't know how glad I am that you turned up today. How very much I needed a friend."

"Times are tough. That's for sure. But you and I we've been through plenty before. I suspect we'll-" Moody went quiet, his magical eye fixed unwaveringly on Dumbledore's desk.

With a sharp pang Dumbledore remembered what he had hidden in there.

"My, my Claudia's ring," Moody stammered. "You've had it all this time."

"Alastor-"

"It was Snape!" he yelled, jumping to his feet. "It was Snape who killed my Claudia and you've been covering for him."

What could he say? He had no argument.

"You're supposed to be my oldest friend and you've been lying to me all this time just so you could keep that low life as a spy!"

Dumbledore hung his head. He had never meant for Moody to find out. It would only bring him pain and Dumbledore would be unable to make his friend understand how necessary Snape was to the plan or how remorseful he was over killing Claudia. Moody did not believe in changed men and his wife had meant everything to him, just as Lily Potter had meant everything to Severus Snape.

Moody was glaring at Albus with disgust etched into every line of his scarred face. "Our long friendship ends now, as would our association except that Voldemort is still out there and, as much as I hate to say it, I think we need you to bring him down. But know this, Albus, when this is over, I'm going to find you and we are going to settle this wizard to wizard."

He stormed out of the office, leaving Dumbledore feeling even more as if all his plans were crumbling around him. Now he needed to enlist the aid of Harry Potter and, after his conversation with the boy yesterday, he was not at all sure that he would receive it.

It was late morning when Harry stumbled bleary-eyed into Remus Lupin's office. He was exhausted, miserable and in some pain after his exploits last night.

"Harry, you look terrible," Lupin said. His gaze lingered on Harry's bruised face but he did not comment on it or even ask where Harry had been all night. Truth be told, Lupin did not look too well himself. Clearly, it had been a long night for him as well.

"Listen, I'm sorry you had to hear all that from Dumbledore. It really should have come from me."

"It wouldn't have mattered," muttered Harry sourly.

"No, I suppose not," Lupin murmured. "I just wish I had some insight or advice for you. I've been up all night trying to think what might be best to do now but …" He shook his head.

Aside from his desire to hold Dumbledore accountable for his misdeeds, Harry had not even begun to think about his immediate future.

"Whatever you want to do, I'm with you. If you want to stay here and teach your classes, that's fine or if you want to go back to the Resistance, I'll come with you. The truth is that, thanks to Dumbledore, you're a target so it might be best if you just went into hiding. It's really up to you."

Harry scowled. "I want everybody to know what that double-crosser did to me and my parents and Sirius."

Lupin frowned. He seemed to be half –expecting this response but still seemed reluctant to respond.

"As I said before, Harry, I'm with you whatever you decide … but Dumbledore … personally I think we're through with him. But the war … Harry, you cannot forget that the people within these walls are nearly all that remain in resistance to Voldemort and without Dumbledore's protection … I don't want to have to say this – it sickens me to say it – but I think we have to leave him be –at least for now."

Harry was outraged. He opened his mouth to protest but Lupin cut him off.

"You and I, we're done with him no question but …" He surveyed Harry carefully. "Do you think I'm wrong in this?"

Harry shrugged non-committally. Part of him knew Lupin was right but another part did not care. He wanted Dumbledore to suffer. He put a hand up absently to rub his scar which had been throbbing since he came to on the castle grounds.

It did not escape Lupin's notice. "Your scar is bothering you."

Harry nodded and Lupin pounded his fist on the table. "Damn him! How dare he put you through this? I'd curse him myself if I thought it would do any good but since he's the only one who understands the connection between you and Voldemort …"

He did not need to finish his statement. Harry knew what he meant. It was just one more thing that tied him to Dumbledore.

"I hate Dumbledore," he mumbled. "But I don't want to leave Hermione and Luna and I certainly don't intend to go back into hiding"

Lupin smiled weakly. "No, I thought not. I guess we'll stay at the castle for now."

There was a sharp rap at the door and, when they opened it, Dobbie the House Elf bowed low.

"Pardon me, sirs, but Headmaster Dumbledore requested a private audience with Mr. Harry Potter."

Lupin snorted at the outrageousness of the request but Harry was not entirely surprised. He had suspected that Dumbledore would not want to leave things as they were.

"Dobbie, tell Dumbledore that Harry will not be coming up," Lupin told the elf.

"It's alright, Professor. I'll hear what he has to say."

"Very well, Dobbie. You can tell Dumbledore that Harry will be up but there will be no private audience." He turned to Harry. "I'll come with you."

Arriving in Dumbledore's office, Harry found himself under Dumbledore's most piercing gaze. He swallowed. Does he know what I tried to do last night?

He knew something. Harry could tell by the way he was looking at him. Well, even if he did know, Dumbledore was no one to be passing judgment. Harry stared defiantly back at him.

Lupin looked vaguely concerned, as if Dumbledore were somehow using mind tricks so Harry hastened to open the conversation.

"You wanted to see me?"

Clearly unhappy both with Harry's tone and the presence of Remus Lupin, Dumbledore straightened the glasses on his crooked nose in an affected way.

"Harry, I've called you up here because I need your help."

"Then you've wasted your time," Harry said dismissively and Lupin nodded his agreement.

"Harry, this is very important," he said sincerely. "I need your help to defeat Voldemort and no one else can do what I am about to ask."

"Like you needed to kill my parent and frame Sirius?" Harry shot back.

"Please just listen to me," he pleaded.

Harry shook his head. "I know your tactics and I won't be involved with them anymore. I guess you'll have to go to the real Chosen One."

"Harry-"

"He has already given you an answer. We're done here," Lupin said with an air of finality. "You're not going to use him up like you did Severus Snape."


	67. Chapter 67

Chapter 67

No one knew how he got into the castle that afternoon because security had been unusually high in the castle over the past few days while Dumbledore closeted himself in his office with Neville Longbottom. Harry knew they were preparing for Neville's confrontation with Lord Voldemort and, for that reason, as well as the generally low morale among the castle inhabitants, Harry had heeded Lupin's advice and not exposed Dumbledore's treachery to anyone but Hermione and Luna.

The high security, however, did nothing to prevent the piercing screams from the entrance hall. Harry sprinted in to discover the front door splintered and two wizards dead on the floor, their throats ripped open and their wands broken beside them. Most people had fled the scene but a few, like Harry, had come to help and they stood open-mouthed and shaking at the sight.

He was like nothing Harry had ever seen. Towering over all of them, he seemed half man and half rabid dog, as if some transformation had gone terribly wrong. His teeth were fangs and fresh blood dripped off of them onto his black furry neck. His left shoulder was literally rotting away and maggots poured from the wound. His eyes were bloodshot and rolled wildly about the room.

"Sirius?" Harry gasped in horror. He fully expected Sirius to react to his voice and Black did glance over as if he recognized his name but nothing more.

"Sirius!" Harry called more insistently and it seemed to break the spell on all present.

Viktor Krum threw out a freezing spell but it had no effect except to anger Sirius who threw up a hand and cast a wandless fireball. Viktor and Hermione were burned and thrown to the floor.

"Sirius, no!" Harry cried desperately but he knew it was no use. What he had brought back was not his godfather but a powerful undead creature.

"Dumbledore!" Black growled scanning the room.

"What have you done?" Hermione demanded tearfully. "He'll kill us all!"

"He only wants Dumbledore," Harry responded feebly. What had he done?

"We could try some fire spells," Luna suggested. "They are said to be very effective at fighting Inferi."

Harry did not know what they were fighting but it seemed worth a try. Unfortunately, he seemed impervious to everything they threw at him."

Before long they were joined by reinforcements. Lupin came sprinting into the room with Rita Skeeter and Minerva McGonagall. Lupin stopped abruptly upon sighting Sirius, looking both stricken and appalled.

"Did you do this?" he demanded of Harry who was too ashamed to answer. Lupin stared at him as if he no longer even knew Harry. Something had broken between them and both parties felt it keenly.

Pushing past Harry, he joined the fray where Sirius was besting all who dared counter him. He looked even more menacing now, as the fire spells which had failed to stop him had ignited the fur on his arms and legs. Finally McGonagall fell and his path was clear. Dropping to all fours he leapt over the dead and injured and tore past Harry and Lupin, looking like a hound from hell and clearly bound for Dumbledore's office. Lupin turned to give chase but Harry held him back.

"Just let him go," he told him in a high, strained voice. "Just let him go. Who cares what he does to Dumbledore? He deserves it. You know he does."

Lupin shook him off roughly and glared at him. "You'd better decide here and now where your loyalties lie because if that – that thing – goes up and kills Dumbledore, we've just lost any chance we had of getting rid of Voldemort. Is that what you want?"

Harry stepped back uncertainly and Lupin sped off to Dumbledore's aid. Harry hesitated a moment longer and then followed suit. There were bigger things at stake.

When they reached Dumbledore's office it was evident that Sirius had gone into a rage at the mere sight of Dumbledore. Even though they were only seconds behind him, Sirius had already managed to destroy a good portion of the office. He stood upright among the debris trading spells with the old wizard who appeared unharmed but thus far unsuccessful at even hindering Black.

Harry prayed that Dumbledore would know how to reverse his spellwork because no one else seemed to have any idea how to do it and Harry realized now that this Sirius would destroy anyone and anything that came between him and Dumbledore.

Snarling Sirius turned towards them and, before Harry knew it, he was throwing out spells as fast as he could.

"Can you send him back?" Lupin called to Dumbledore over the confusion.

Dumbledore was clearly tiring and out of breath with exertion although he seemed quite calm.

"I know the requisite magic," he answered, "but it is complicated and it's taking all of my wand work just to defend myself. If you could but draw him away …"

Lupin frowned. It was highly unlikely that they could draw him away from Dumbledore – his intended target. Still, they had to at least try.

"Use whatever you can think of," he advised Harry. "If we distract him, it may give Dumbledore the room he needs."

While Harry and Lupin worked side by side feverishly producing a vast array of spells, a few more people came to assist. Harry had no idea how badly people were wounded in the entrance hall so he was quite relieved to see Hermione and Luna with Professor McGonagall at their heels. McGonagall cast a powerful Patronus, which did seem to disorient Sirius but no enough to help Dumbledore. They spread across his office hoping that Sirius would be unable to cope with spells coming from so many directions but even that tactic seemly wholly ineffective.

Harry began to fear that, even if the entire castle attacked Sirius, he would be unharmed and just as determined to destroy Dumbledore. Snape had been right. This was an abomination. He had been warned but he had not understood. He had never expected this. Would he kill them all? Lupin, his last friend? Harry, his own godson?

Then Harry's heart skipped a beat because for the first time Dumbledore's face registered real fear. Harry followed his eyes which were fixed on the entrance to the office. Neville Longbottom had arrived looking white as a sheet and armed with not a wand but some strange artifact. It was a scepter made of intertwined gold and silver. On the top was a glass ball filled with fog. It looked ancient.

Dumbledore stopped what he was doing and called out sharply.

"Neville, no! You mustn't! It won't work. This man's soul has long since crossed."

Harry never got to see Neville's reaction because the moment Dumbledore let down his guard, Sirius magically disarmed him. They all watched in horror as Dumbledore's wand arced away from him and fell to the floor.

What happened next would be forever etched in Harry's memory. Although it all happened in a matter of seconds, everything suddenly seemed to spin in slow motion as Sirius growled triumphantly and dropped down to all fours, ready to charge. With a loud cry, Remus Lupin lunged toward Dumbledore, knocking him to the ground just as Sirius pounced. He started in at once on Lupin who had fallen on top of Dumbledore.

The ensuing sounds were chilling. Lupin's cries, combined with Sirius' growling, were all the more horrible in conjunction with the sight of fresh blood rapidly pooling around the pair of them. But it did not take long for Lupin's voice to grow feeble and, when he went quiet, Sirius lifted him from the ground and flung him towards the far wall.

"Remus!" Luna screamed in horror.

Sirius froze for a moment. A look came into his eyes. It was as if the sound of his old friend's name was not entirely unfamiliar to him, as if one small part of the old Sirius Black was trapped inside this creature.

Dumbledore had taken advantage of the mayhem to grab his own wand and was currently attempting the magic that would dispatch Sirius from their midst. A sudden wind kicked up in the office and most people were thrown of their feet as the debris from the fighting became airborne.

It was nearly impossible to move against such forces but Harry was determined. He had only one thought - to get to Remus Lupin. Fighting his way across the office, he found Lupin gasping on the ground. He was bleeding profusely and had clearly broken numerous bones. The side of his head was extremely misshapen and Harry realized that his skull was broken. He called for help, trying to scream above the commotion, but Lupin made a feeble gesture for him to desist. He knew he was beyond any intervention.

"No, Professor," Harry protested emotionally. "Not you! I can't bear it."

Lupin only beckoned him closer, struggling to speak with the last of his breath.

"I don't understand prophecies and chosen ones …" He paused and gasped for air. "But I do understand this – you have a personal part to play in defeating Voldemort."

Harry nodded, unconsciously touching his scar. He sensed it too.

"I don't know what it is but I can't protect you from it. No one can." His eyes closed and Harry clasped his hand tightly.

"I know, Professor. It has to be me. I'll do whatever it takes."

When Lupin's eyes fluttered opened again, Harry could see that they were filled with tears. His own eyes stung.

"I meant to be with you until the end," he gasped. "Forgive me."

It was more than Harry could bear to hear Lupin apologizing to him when it was his fault he was laying here, his own demons that forced Lupin to pay the ultimate price. Lupin's eyes were becoming glassy. There was so little time left and Harry desperately wanted to say something, to tell how much he meant to him or how reckless he had been in trying to bring Sirius back but he was suffocating with his own anguish. All he could do was clutch Lupin's hand and choke back sobs.

"Courage, Harry," he muttered almost inaudibly as his hand slipped from Harry's grasp. He struggled vainly for a few more shallow breaths and was still.

"No!" screamed Harry and he collapsed in grief over the body, not even noticing that the room had gone quiet or that the creature he had summoned back through the veil was now reduced to a pile of ashes. Nothing else mattered now. His friend and mentor Remus Lupin were dead.


	68. Chapter 68

Chapter 68

Harry watched the proceedings from the castle with a pair of omnioculars he had found abandoned in the dormitory. It wasn't much of a funeral, really, just a small gathering around a freshly dug mound of earth. It was far less than Remus Lupin deserved but, under the circumstances, all that could be done.

Certainly, he did not deserve the one person he probably cared most about in the world to be absent but Harry could not bring himself to attend. How could he?

I killed him, he thought with anguish. I desecrated my godfather's final rest just so that he could come back and kill his last living friend – not to mention a few others.

He forced himself to face the truth but it was almost more than he could bear and he swayed under the burden of guilt and grief. There were no mitigating circumstances, nothing to assuage the horror he had committed. He had only summoned Sirius to seek vengeance on Dumbledore. It was an evil act and even loyal Hermione had denounced him for it. He could see her down at the funeral, burying her face in Viktor Krum's cloak. Would she ever speak to him again? Would anyone?

If only he could go back and change what happened. It had gone wrong in so many places. If he had a time-turner, he would go back to the night he had performed the resurrection spell or, if that did not work, he would make sure that he was the one that jumped in front of Dumbledore. At the very least, if he could just relive the last few moments of Lupin's life, there was so much he should have said but hadn't. All he had really done was promise to help fight Voldemort and, after this last foray into the Dark Arts, he wondered if he was even capable of it. Had he stained himself too deeply?

He looked back at the grounds. Hagrid was filling in the earth now while the others conjured flowers for the grave. Luna Lovegood kept glancing back at the castle and he wondered if she was looking for him. He really ought to have been there for her. Since her own father had had no funeral, this must have been her chance to say goodbye to them both. As it was there was only Rita Skeeter to comfort her.

It was terrible to think that he had let down yet another friend but then he noticed something odd. Dumbledore was not there either. He quickly scanned the group. Professor McGonagall was there with a handful of other staff members but definitely not Dumbledore. Harry was furious. He could not help himself. Here Lupin had died to protect Dumbledore and he could not even be bothered to show up? It was appalling, unfathomable really.

Harry had been so certain that he would be there, dressed in back robes and reciting some trite speech about self-sacrifice. Instead it was McGonagall saying how much everyone had loved him, how difficult his life had been and that maybe he would find peace now. It just did not make sense.

They were filing back into the castle now and Harry could finally see the grave by the lake. It was not far from where they said Snape had been buried – right beneath the willow. There had been no funeral at all for him, just Dumbledore and McGonagall, possibly Hagrid. Had they even marked his grave?

Scanning the castle grounds he could not help but realize that it was nothing like the beloved school he had started at six years ago. The forest with its dangerous but fantastic creatures was gone, burnt to the ground. Now the grounds were dotted with graves. It was not even a school anymore, just the last safe place beyond Voldemort's reign of terror.

He clenched his fist. Why was it the last safe place? Because of Albus Dumbledore. In spite of, or perhaps because of, all that he had done, Dumbledore had succeeded in making Hogwarts the one safe place Voldemort could not touch. It was all because of him. Neville knew it. Lupin had known it and now Harry was forced to the same bitter conclusion.

"I have to go to him," he admitted grudgingly to himself. "I owe it to Lupin."

It was an awkward meeting to say the least. Dumbledore did not bring up Sirius, although Harry was certain that he knew exactly what had happened. By the same token, Harry said nothing about Dumbledore's part in his parents' deaths, though on his last visit he had sworn never to speak to Dumbledore again. It made for a painfully uneasy truce but, remembering his promise to Lupin, Harry was first to break the silence. He reminded Dumbledore of their last conversation.

"You said there was something only I could do," he started. "But I don't quite understand because you said that it was Neville Longbottom who had to defeat him."

It was not as simple as that, Dumbledore told him. There were certain complications. For instance, Voldemort needed to be at the castle for Neville to access the necessary magic. This hardly seemed insurmountable to Harry. It was common knowledge that Voldemort intended to attack the castle. It was only a matter of time.

"Yes, you are correct in your thoughts," Dumbledore said. "An attack on Hogwarts by Voldemort is a certainty. He feels that he must take back this castle and reclaim his birthright as the last heir of the Slytheran line. Only when he sits enthroned in this castle will he consider himself victorious."

Dumbledore went on to explain that Voldemort still refrained from attacking the castle, even with control of the government and as many followers as he could desire.

"Because of you. He still fears you," Harry supplied resignedly.

Dumbledore nodded curtly. "Lord Voldemort will not attack this castle while I am still living."

Harry sighed impatiently. This was typical Dumbledore. Why couldn't he speak more plainly?

"Well, unless you want me to push you over the castle wall, I don't see how I can help you with that," he quipped dryly.

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "We needn't go as far as that. We need only for Voldemort to believe that I am dead." He leaned back in his chair. "There is no reason he has to know that I survived Black's attack."

So that was the reason he had missed Lupin's funeral. He was hiding out. But it was preposterous. People knew he had survived.

"Only a handful of people know what truly happened and quite frankly it does not matter. Voldemort is suspicious of any information that comes out of the castle - which is why we need you."

"Me?"

"Because he will not doubt that which he sees in his own mind."

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach. "You want me to use the mind connection?"

Dumbledore sat back silently and regarded him thoughtfully. Harry struggled to regain his composure despite a growing feeling of trepidation.

"I – I don't know how to use it," he stammered. "I've only been taught to block out Voldemort." It was essentially true. He had only ever attempted to block out Voldemort but he had certainly used his connection to Ginny numerous times.

Dumbledore's blue gaze was unwavering. He put the tips of his fingers together and leaned further back in his chair. Clearly Harry's excuses were nothing to him but just that – excuses. He cleared his throat and turned his gaze to the floor.

"You will pardon me, Harry, for saying it but that last bit of Dark Magic you performed – Black's resurrection? You cannot tell me that escaped Lord Voldemort's notice. I doubt he can be very far from your consciousness."

Harry swallowed hard. It was true. Last year when Dumbledore had driven Voldemort from him it was as if he had somehow marked him as his own. It had been as if Voldemort feared to touch his mind again but now, since the Dark Ritual, it felt as if Voldemort were just behind a curtain waiting to be invited in – and that seemed to be precisely what Dumbledore wanted.

"He will not be able to possess you, of course, because of the distance. But he will be able to read your thoughts. Just as he misdirected your thoughts and actions your fifth year, so shall you do to him."

Harry felt a shiver. That had been one of the worst times of his life. Voldemort had taken partial control of his mind and eventually led him to the Hall of Prophecies using his godfather as the bait. Now Dumbledore wanted Harry to misdirect Voldemort's thoughts, luring him to Hogwarts.

"He can possess me once he's in the castle," Harry reasoned. "Everyone has told me never to exploit this mind connection. It could be disastrous. What happens when he finds that I've misled him?"

"You need not worry because when he gets to the castle I shall be prepared." Dumbledore nodded gravely. "And if all goes according to plan, he will not leave Hogwarts again."

Harry stared at him overwhelmed by the request and horrified by the thought of sharing a consciousness with Voldemort.

"You see now why I could only ask you. I know, in spite of all of our differences, that you detest Lord Voldemort and his tyranny. Now is the time to choose between what is right and what is easy, as many of our friends have done and will continue to do."

Harry nodded somberly to show that he understood what was being asked of him but he could not agree to it yet. Not because he feared the outcome but because he no longer trusted Dumbledore completely. He could not agree until he had spoken to the one with the power to truly vanquish the Dark Lord – Neville Longbottom.

Neville had taken a small room just outside Dumbledore's office but had not bothered to do much with it. The room was littered with scrolls and bits of parchment. Books were in stacks all around the room and in the center was an old wooden desk occupied by a pinch-looking Neville. He seemed exhausted.

"Hullo, Harry," he muttered.

"Uh, hello," Harry answered, conjuring himself a seat amid the clutter.

"Am I ready?" Neville asked, as if to himself.

"I'm sorry, what?" Harry asked, shaking a cobweb off his robes.

"Am I ready?" Neville repeated. "That's what you're here for, aren't you? To see if I'm ready or if I can do it. Can I take down Voldemort?"

Harry was unsure how to respond. That was in fact why he was here but seeing Neville so different had taken him aback.

"I'm ready," he said resignedly. "I mean I have to be, don't I? Look at Dumbledore. He can't hold out much longer and – well, things have only gotten bleaker."

Harry had to admire Neville's bravery, his willingness to play his part. It's what Lupin had tried to tell him at the last. His eyes welled up at the memory and he quickly looked away from Neville to hide it but as he did, his eyes fell upon something else in the room – the scepter Neville had brought into the battle with Black, the scepter Dumbledore was desperate for him not to use. He pointed to it.

"Neville, what is that?"

Neville's eyes suddenly grew wide. "That is the scepter of Fatum Mortuus." A kind of awe was in his voice. "It is a very ancient artifact, made by the King's Alchemists. It is with that Scepter that I must vanquish Voldemort from this earth."

Harry gasped. "What does it do?"

"It should never have been made," Neville asserted. "It is an evil device. Man had no right to tamper with the soul." He hung his head. "I hate what I must do but for Lord Voldemort there is no other choice."

Harry waited on the edge of his seat.

"The wizard who wields the Sceptor of Fatum Mortuus can permanently destroy a man's soul."

"Like the Dementors?"

Neville nodded. "It is a powerful weapon that only a Tirion Wizard can use and to ensure that it is only used in the most dire circumstances they put in their own safeguard. The wielder of the scepter must lay down his life. That is the bargain –one life for one soul."

Harry was appalled. "Using it will kill you? Neville, you can't do this. Dumbledore is a Tirion wizard. Let him give up his life."

"He would," Neville said sincerely. "But Dumbledore has tampered with time and experimented with immortality. His soul has been tainted and he can not wield the scepter. It must be me. I am the last Tirion wizard."

"There has to be another way. Voldemort still fears Dumbledore. Dumbledore could beat him in a duel."

Neville shook his head. "He'll only just come back as he did before. Has Dumbledore told you what he's done to himself?"

"He told me something about splitting his soul but I didn't understand."

"He's fragmented his soul into pieces so that if he is killed his spirit lives on. That is how he came back before. The Order of the Phoenix has been collecting these soul fragments. They're called horocruxes." He reached into his desk and pulled out a ring which he handed to Harry. It was cracked down the middle. "This used to be one until they destroyed it. Riddle's diary was one too. He put a bit of his soul into these objects and then he can reside there if he needs to. When I use the scepter it will destroy all his soul fragments."

"And you as well," Harry breathed in awe.

Neville nodded

"Aren't you scared of dying?"

Neville hesitated. "Not as scared as I am of Voldemort going unchallenged for all time. That possibility terrifies me."

Harry wondered why it had taken until now for him to see just how brave and noble Neville Longbottom really was. If he had to be the one to wield the scepter, would he have been able to? Or would his soul, like Dumbledore's, have been too stained?

"There is something I wanted to ask you," Neville began earnestly. "When they come – the Dark Army – will you take vengeance on Bellatrix Lestrange for my family? As their son, it is my duty but I won't be able to."

Harry clasped his hand. "Don't worry, Neville. I won't let her infamy go unanswered. You have my word."

Harry was halfway down the corridor before he gave any thought to the ring in his pocket, a horocrux. A piece of Voldemort's soul was contained in the ring but it was broken now, cracked down the center. He ran his finger along the crack, thinking of Riddle's diary, the other horcrux. Riddle had said that Ginny had poured a little of her soul into the diary and that she had allowed him to pour a little of his soul into hers.

There was no denying the connection between the two. Harry had sensed it himself. He stopped dead. What about the connection between himself and Voldemort? Was he a horcrux too?

He knew the truth instinctively. His fingers traced the scar on his forehead. Part of Voldemort's soul resided in his, maybe he was even more Voldemort than Harry. That was why Dumbledore was no longer concerned if Lord Voldemort tried to possess Harry. It no longer mattered anymore because Neville would destroy Voldemort's soul, taking Harry's with it, and everything would be over.

Did Dumbledore know seventeen years ago what marking Harry would mean? He was more than a decoy. He was part of it all. Knowingly or not, Dumbledore had given him the power to destroy the Dark Lord. Both boys were the Chosen Ones and, when Neville Longbottom lay dead on the field of battle, Harry Potter's body would be right beside him. Neither could live while the other survived.


	69. Chapter 69

Chapter 69

Harry looked out over the same balcony he had come to the night he had returned to Hogwarts after breaking out of prison. He had been at a crossroads then, uncertain where his path lay without the Resistance. Although he had joined the Resistance in hopes of making a difference in the war effort, he knew now that none of it mattered. He had only been marking time, rehearsing for his true destiny to die with Voldemort, destroying whatever piece of his soul lie tethered to his.

As he struggled to come to terms with the day's events, Harry had never felt so alone, so isolated. It had all been too much – battling with Sirius, losing Lupin, discovering the truth from Neville. He felt utterly unable to process his own feeling, let alone explain them to anyone else. Not that he had anyone to confide in anyway, not after it had become clear that he was behind Sirius' resurrection. No, he was on his own and it was probably best that way. He feared his friends might try to talk him out of what he now knew he must do. He could hear Hermione now, "No, Harry, there has to be another way."

But there was no other way. He had to sacrifice his life in order to destroy Voldemort completely. Oddly enough, however, that was not what scared him most. What terrified Harry was the thought of executing Dumbledore's plan to lure Lord Voldemort to the castle. Opening up his mind to Voldemort was extremely dangerous, no matter what the old wizard said. Harry had never attempted to use the mind connection and was far from confident that he could do so successfully.

What if I establish a connection and Voldemort discovers I'm lying? Harry wondered. What will he do then? And what will it do for our plans if he realizes that we tried to trick him? All in all, it seemed far more likely to fail than succeed. Still Dumbledore's plans, however ill-conceived, did have a way of working out in one way or another and without any ideas of his own Harry was determined to follow Dumbledore's plan to the letter.

How shall I tell him? He wondered. The last thing he wanted was another meeting with the old wizard but he felt he needed to communicate that he had accepted the mission, especially since it would be foolhardy to interact with him once he had established a connection to Voldemort. He could give no hint that Albus Dumbledore still lived.

He was considering sending his Patronus to the headmaster's office when a movement on the castle grounds caught his attention. A robed figure was hiding in the shadows, moving purposely around the castle walls. Harry raised his wand to sound the alarm but stopped. He suddenly realized who the figure was and what he was doing out in the middle of the night. It was Dumbledore silently removing his protective charms from the castle. He had known all along that Harry would agree to his plan.

It was a bit unnerving to think that the old wizard knew exactly what he would do but that was exactly how Dumbledore operated. All those talks in school had made Harry feel special and cared for but their real purpose had been to gauge his character. Still, what was more upsetting was the removal of the protective charms. Although it was true that the charms would have dissolved with Dumbledore's death, it was a dangerous blind as it left the castle vulnerable. He was tempted to warn Luna and Hermione but he knew that the plan had the best chance of working if it were between himself and Dumbledore.

"I'm putting them in danger," he lamented but it was to get rid of Voldemort which was indeed what they all wanted. Still … But what could he do? It was for the greater good.

With that disturbing revelation Harry set off to put the plan in motion. Back in his room he slowly changed into his night clothes. The question of how best to alert Voldemort to Dumbledore's death had been nagging him since leaving Neville. Although, as Dumbledore had said, Voldemort had been roused by the Dark Ritual, Harry did not want to give him unfettered access to his mind. Indeed he could not do so because he intended to hide certain information from the Dark Lord so it was not a matter of relaxing and letting Voldemort in the way he had done with Ginny and their shared connection.

If only he had been given a bit more direction but there was no one to help him now. It was just he and Voldemort. Could he pull off what Voldemort had orchestrated three years ago in the Department of Mysteries? It hardly seemed likely. The Master Legilimens against the boy who had never mastered Occulmency?

It's the only way, Harry determined grimly. The same way he lured me to the Ministry of Magic. That's the way I have to lure him here.

Harry sifted through the events of the day. Perhaps he could make it look as if Dumbledore had died in the attack if he left out a few key details. He lay on top of the bed. It would only work if Lord Voldemort believed that he was catching flashes of things that Harry was not guarding. He remembered flashes of Snape's lessons, "at night when you're asleep, when you're most vulnerable."

But Harry could not relax, not after all that had happened and what he still had to do. Still, he must relax. He tried to think of happier times but they were soon crowded out by the pain of Lupin's death. Restless, he rolled over to his side and there it was – a miniscule vial of an unmarked potion on his bedside table. Dumbledore again, Harry decided. He did not know what it was but he took it on faith. It turned out to be a calming solution.

He immediately relaxed and his mind became clearer. Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes and his mind went back to the castle corridor. There were screams. He ran. Sirius had broken down the door. McGonnagall fell and Sirius sped down the hall with blood and flames in his fur, growling Dumbledore's name. Harry's scar began to burn. Someone else was watching.

Now they were in Dumbledore's office and Dumbledore was saying it was all he could do to ward off the creature. Then Dumbledore was unharmed and Sirius leapt across the desk at him. There were tears and screams. Harry's scar began more fiercely now. He put his hands to his face. They were at Lupin's funeral but now it was blurred and without Dumbledore it seemed like it could be his funeral. McGonagall was taking charge. More tears and a sense of despair.

Then another feeling filled Harry –triumph. He could not contain himself from screaming with glee and all the while his scar burned painfully. He could feel Lord Voldemort in his consciousness and it was making him physically ill but he continued to cycle through his little movie, careful to hide the truth.

Was this it? Would Voldemort be with him until they both died? Harry desperately attempted to conceal any thoughts that did not directly involve his version of Dumbledore's "death," and he must have been successful because his mood changed from jubilant to resolute and Lord Voldemort disappeared from his consciousness.

To make plans, Harry thought with a chill. He's planning an attack on the castle.

Once Harry had communicated with the Dark Lord, it seemed to set off a clock in his head which constantly ticked off the minutes left in Harry's life. At least Lupin had been spared this. The waiting was agonizing and it was only worsened by his total isolation.

Too afraid to leave his room for anything for fear he might encounter someone or something that could tip off Voldemort, Harry sneaked out only occasionally to grab something from the Great Hall or to check on the castle's status. Dumbledore must have been doing the same because Harry heard snatches of rumors that the Headmaster was indeed dead and that the Order was covering it up.

He spent two days flinching at every noise and waiting for the crash that would indicate that the invasion had begun. It was not until the third day that Harry realized he had been dead wrong. There was no sickening crash, no warning, only a few small pops as the first wave of Death Eaters apparated into the Great Hall, catching the diners by surprise. Most were killed before they could utter a sound. The attack on Hogwarts had begun.


	70. Chapter 70

Author's Note: The Alchemist's Shield is back! I know its been a long, long time, but you will be happy to know that I have completed all of the chapters except the epilogue so there will be no further disruptions. I am still going to have to post every other week however, as my typist hasn't caught up. I will post the last couple chapters every other Friday unless she finishes more quickly. I truly apologize for the terrible lag, I am so glad to be posting again. I hope you enjoy this chapter, I will see you in two weeks!

Chapter 70

Although the Dark Army had managed a surprise attack, it did not take long for the castle to respond. Long had its inhabitants been anticipating an assault and they were more than ready to defend themselves. While Voldemort's followers continued to invade, scores of wizards faithful to the Resistance came pouring in from the dozens of safe houses still hidden from the Death Eaters.

Harry moved through the fray as if in a dream. In spite of everything going on around him, all he could think of was the moment when Neville would surface and end it all. The pain, he imagined, would be excruciating and it was just a matter of time. These last few hours or minutes would be his last. It was hard to believe that when the sun rose tomorrow he would not be there to see it.

"Hey, Potter," growled Moody as he pushed him out of the path of a flying fireball. "Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

Harry blinked and raised his wand at the attacking Death Eaters who melted away.

"Keep your wits about you," Moody called after him.

But Harry's thoughts were miles away as he moved through the castle instinctively casting a few spells to defend himself or help someone in trouble. The Dark Lord had not yet arrived. He would sense him if he were near.

He's probably waiting, Harry reasoned, until his Death Eaters had crushed most of the Resistance. Casualties would be high, very high. If only there were another way.

"Potter, you had better get avay," Viktor Krum called when he spotted him. "They vill be looking for you." Krum had come to the castle's aid despite the injuries he sustained fending off Sirius.

Harry just looked at him. Where was Hermione? She was never very good at dueling. Had she fallen? He suddenly felt sick.

"Where's Hermione?" he gasped.

Viktor pointed down the corridor where Hermione was enchanting suits of armor to fight. Professor Flitwick, unheard of for months, was at her side. He had returned to defend the castle.

"That's the way, Miss Granger. Those Death Eaters won't know what hit them," he squeaked.

Harry hesitated, thinking back on all they had been through. He wanted to say something but there was no time. All he could do was hope that she might forgive him after his death, as she had Ron. Mentally he wished her well and continued walking numbly on.

The fighting became fiercer and spilled out onto the grounds but he felt separate, apart from it. He could hear Hagrid's voice crying out in triumph but it barely registered with him – just like the sight of the Creevey brothers lying side by side on the ground.

Only when he felt himself grabbed from behind did he awake to his immediate situation. He struggled and let out a muffled cry but was clearly overpowered. There were at least four Death Eaters and they had disarmed him before he knew what had happened. Harry's heart began to race. They pushed him roughly towards the staircase and made him climb. Finally, they found an empty room and threw him to the floor.

"Look who it is," one of the Death Eaters sneered. "Harry Potter! This'll give us a place in the new world order, killing him."

Another Death Eater seemed doubtful. "I think the Dark Lord might want to kill him himself. He's been obsessing about it for months."

"Well, let's get him tied up before he pulls one of his tricks," said a third Death Eater. "Then we can figure out what to do with him."

The fourth Death Eater pulled out a wand and bound and gagged Harry who glared up at him. So this was how it would end – with him helpless at the end of a wand. But whose? Lord Voldemort's or his minions'?

Three Death Eaters began to argue while the fourth hung back by Harry. He considered trying to knock him down but knew it would be futile. He would have to await their decision.

"Look!" the fourth cried from beside the window. "The Dark Lord approaches!"

Harry's heart stopped. The Dark Lord was here? Why couldn't he sense it? Perhaps now his mind was too closely linked to Voldemort's. This was truly the end. He prayed Neville was ready.

The other three Death Eaters turned, looking surprised.

"He's wearing golden robes," their companion cried excitedly. "Madam Lestrange is at his side. She has a gown of silk and the tiara …"

He was pushed roughly out of the way as the others strained to see out the window.

"Where? I can't see!"

But the fourth Death Eater had his wand raised and pointed at their backs. He murmured a spell and they fell to the ground. Then he rounded on Harry, who struggled, wide-eyed, in his bonds.

"He's in one of these rooms," a voice called from the corridor. "I saw them drag him up here."

Oh, no! It was Luna. Harry's heart sank. She was clearly looking for him but if she came in here with this rogue Death Eater … He could not bear to think of her getting killed in a misguided effort to save him.

But the voice seemed to jar the Death Eater as well. He immediately stepped away from Harry and jumped onto the window sill. Then, with his wand gripped tightly in his hand, he leapt through it and a slip of paper floated down to the floor. Harry was shocked. Had he just jumped to his death? Why?

Before he could think any further of it, Luna and Rita Skeeter flew into the room with wands drawn.

"Surrender yourselves!" Rita commanded. "The Civilian Resistance is here!"

"Yes, we're still here," Luna continued, dressed in a Muggle trench coat and black beret. "You haven't broken us and today we stand united. You will have to fight for every inch of this castle and you won't be able to call it yours until every last drop of our blood is spilled."

"Right on, sister!" Rita cheered and they high-fived.

About that time they finally realized that not only were there no Death Eaters in the room but that Harry was bound and gagged in the corner.

"Sorry, Harry!" Luna exclaimed. "I'll set you free."

Rita went to see to the Death Eaters and found Harry's wand.

"Here you go, kid. In future, I'd be careful who I let borrow my toys."

"Thanks for the advice," Harry said dryly. He went on to explain what happened.

"He just jumped out the window? Why would he do that?" Luna wondered.

Harry went over to where the paper had dropped. It was, in fact, a chocolate frog card – Godric Gryffindor.

"Resistance!" Luna declared gleefully. "That Death Eater was one of us! He saved you, Harry, but why did he run off?"

"Obviously, because he heard us," Rita told her. "He didn't want his cover blown."

Luna looked doubtful. "But it doesn't matter if we know who he is. Why would he take such a risky way out?"

Rita shrugged. "How should I know? That's why Flitwick is in charge of the Resistance and we're not. Listen, Potter, we're organizing a charge into the Great Hall. I think we can probably take it back from You-Know-Who's army. Are you with us?"

Harry started to say yes. His capture and Luna's bravery had finally shaken him out of his stupor. If he was going to go down, he would take as many Death Eaters with him as he could. Then he realized that Voldemort was not here, that it was just a distraction. He remembered what he had promised Neville Longbottom.

"I can't. There's something else I have to do. Have you seen Bellatrix Lestrange?"

The mere mention of her name caused both women to shiver.

"I haven't seen her," Rita said, "but my guess is she's here. She's not likely to miss a chance at the castle."

"She's probably on the grounds," Luna suggested. "But you'll have a difficult time fighting your way out there from way up here. Too bad you can't get out the way he did." She pointed to the window and it gave Harry an idea.

"I could!" he cried. "If I had a broom!"

It took only a moment to summon a broom. Then they said their goodbyes and parted ways.

Determined to find Bellatrix, Harry soared across the grounds on his broom. From this vantage point, he was able to see just how many had fallen. The Death Eaters had clearly gained an advantage and those defending the castle's perimeter were looking rather desperate.

He swooped down to assist Fred and George Weasley who were surrounded by enemies. He had not seen them since Ginny's funeral. Under normal circumstance it might have been an awkward meeting after all that had passed but there was no time for any interaction as a new set of Death Eaters closed in.

"Have you seen Bellatrix Lestrange?" he gasped as he pulled up on his broom.

The twins shook their heads and Harry flew off, evading a myriad of unfriendly spells. He was very nearly unseated but managed to avoid any real harm.

All around him people were battling for the castle and their lives and he desperately wanted to help them. Oliver Wood was badly wounded but still fighting and Bill and Fleur had backed themselves into a corner. So many friends were in trouble but he knew he could not save them. He could not ignore his promise to Neville, who was in truth their only hope.

Still, Harry could not seem to locate Bellatrix anywhere. Had she gone into the castle after all? He certainly hoped not. In his head he could still see her dueling with Tonks on the night of the prison break and he doubted anyone in the castle would have the strength to take her on. He doubted he himself could but he was going to try.

He tightened his grip on his broom resolutely but as he did it began to dip precariously. Instinctively he tried to pull up but was unable to do so. He had lost control of his broom and spiraled to the ground. Some spell must be working against him, pushing him down. He fell roughly, only to discover that everyone seemed to be under the influence of the magic. The fighting had ceased and everyone was forced to their knees, roaring in outrage.

No one else knew what had happened but Harry did. There was no scar pain this time, just an overwhelming sense of presence. Lord Voldemort had finally come.


	71. Author's note

Author's Note:

Alchemist's Shield is back up! Chapter 70 is brand new!


	72. Chapter 71

Chapter 71

Harry struggled against the unseen power forcing him to his knees. All around him the fighting had ceased but noises from inside the castle indicated that they were not under the same enchantment. Some wizards, like Pansy Parkinson, were bowed low while others, like Dean Thomas, were struggling not to kneel. All of them, however, were looking intently down the path where Lord Voldemort had just come into their field of vision.

He strode regally up the path, dressed impeccably and emanating confidence. He presented an image of a young, hopeful monarch approaching his coronation but, of course, all of them knew that this was only an illusion. There was a sense of desperation from both camps of wizards. It seemed impossible that anyone left could stop him.

"Today, my fellow wizards, I have come to reclaim my birthright. I am the last true heir of Slytheran and have come to take my place as your rightful king."

Bellatrix Lestrange followed half a step behind him, her face transformed by joy. It made Harry sick. If only he could break free, he would stop her for good.

His thoughts were interrupted by Dean Thomas who cried out from his awkwardly crouched position.

"Godric Gryffindor I abolished the monarchy 1000 years ago because it was corrupt. We are a free people and you are not our king! You are nothing but a self-serving murderer!" He looked defiantly up at Voldemort who calmly stopped, pulled out his wand and killed him.

There was a collective gasp and the bitter sound of tears. Bellatrix laughed, a leer upon her face, and Voldemort turned to give her a look of disapproval. She desisted and he turned his attention to the rest of the crowd.

"He need not have died," he explained. "Lord Voldemort has no desire to spill magical blood in the new regime. Only those who resist shall pay with their lives."

It was a lie. What place would there be for half-bloods and Muggle-borns in the new regime? Harry knew the truth but wondered how many of the desperate witches and wizards around him knew. Some of them assumed a more subservient kneeling position.

Lord Voldemort seemed pleased, very pleased.

"Come Bella, we shall enter the castle together. Lord Voldemort keeps his promises to his faithful."

She clasped his elbow and they stepped forward to the castle entrance. Suddenly they were knocked back by the sound of thunder and the swirl of purple smoke. Albus Dumbledore had appeared, looking fierce.

"Alive!" Voldemort cried furiously over gasps from the crowd. Bellatrix hissed.

Dumbledore smiled slyly and straightened his crooked glasses upon his nose.

"Oh, yes, Tom, you'll see that I am very much alive. And I must remind you that when you left Hogwarts last, I swore that you would not pass its threshold again while I still drew breath."

Voldemort was livid. His eyes gleamed dangerously.

"I should have guessed – another of Dumbledore's deceptions. But this one reeks of desperation. You must know that you cannot defeat me in a duel."

"No one can defeat the Dark Lord," Bellatrix chimed in. "Even if you struck him down, he will only rise again."

There were anxious murmurs from the crowd but Voldemort merely seemed to be pondering Dumbledore's unorthodox strategy.

"Oh, he knows this, Bella. He must have something up his gilded sleeve." Voldemort addressed Dumbledore directly. "But what I wonder is how many of your people have died for this little stunt?"

Dumbledore's face turned stony. Voldemort looked initially triumphant but then took on a shrewder expression.

"What is your reason then, Dumbledore? You do not sacrifice lives needlessly." He was calculating and Harry swallowed nervously. He knew where this was going.

"Surely it's not …" Voldemort mused. "But it must be! You are still relying on that silly Prophecy. You think the 'Chosen One' can stop me." He seemed gleeful.

Harry watched Dumbledore carefully. He gave no response but seemed to incline his head slightly.

"Harry Potter!" Bellatrix shrieked mockingly. "He thinks Harry Potter is going to save them all."

Voldemort laughed his high, cruel laugh. "You've misplayed your hand. Harry Potter is dead to you. In fact, it was through his mind that I discovered your fake death. He let me in and he won't be letting me out. The connection is now absolute."

"Tom, Tom," Dumbledore chided, shaking his head. "You mind is sharp but once again it fails to live up to mine."

Voldemort seethed.

"Harry Potter has been complicit in the entire plan. It was at my suggestion that he sent you that image of my funeral."

Harry's head exploded with pain.

"Then Potter will pay!" Voldemort sputtered with rage. "Dearly! I am in his mind and I can twist it to my fancy. He will suffer like no other and he can thank you for it."

"Harry did what he did out of bravery and a great desire to vanquish a terrible evil. He is brave and selfless and for these fine virtues I can take no credit," Dumbledore answered calmly.

"Always the same," Voldemort murmured with an ugly look. "I have not come here to listen to your self-serving sermons. I am no longer your pupil. I have long surpassed you. Let us end this now – the way you knew Lord Voldemort eventually would."

He drew his wand to the dueling position. Harry's heart was beating wildly. This was it. He was going to kill Dumbledore.

Only Dumbledore did not seem to realize it. He remained calmly in place, his wand at his side.

"Once again you demonstrate a lack of fundamental knowledge," he continued. "You try to control people but you don't realize that you can never control their hearts and minds and that, Tom, is what makes a man a man."

Bellatrix looked thoroughly confused. Voldemort just looked angrier.

"So this is why you have come down from your ivory tower, is it? To spout off more humanist drivel in front of the masses? Is that the secret of your success? Go for their hearts and minds?"

Dumbledore appeared confused but it looked like a façade to Harry. He doubted Dumbledore would be unequal to following Voldemort's repartee.

"You need not pretend with me," Voldemort continued. "You always manage to get your people to do what you want them to, even if it's throwing their lives away for your causes. And you're good at it – I'll give you that. You definitely have finesse. But when it comes right down to it we are nearly the same. I'm just a bit more ambitious."

Dumbledore's response was as cool as ice. "I beg to differ, Tom."

Voldemort smiled. "Do you really?" he asked disingenuously. "Even when you're sipping down your elixir of life?"

Dumbledore's face turned to stone.

"Oh, but you've lost that. So I guess the only difference between us now is that I am immortal and you – are not."

Both wands went to the dueling position and the spell holding them all was broken but very few moved. Most stood spellbound, waiting for the duel to begin.

Bellatrix took the first shot, rushing forward to throw out a bolt of lightning. Dumbledore immediately deflected it and turned her to ice. Voldemort irritably cancelled the spell.

"This is my duel, Bella!"

"But, master, what should I do?"

Voldemort shrugged. "I don't know, woman! Do what you do best. If Dumbledore's still alive, there's bound to be some resistance!"

With an evil grin Bellatrix took to the skies.


	73. Chapter 72

Chapter 72

At first, Harry too stood spellbound by the spectacular duel in front of him. Swords conjured of mid-air clashed against each other. Winds summoned by Dumbledore threatened to blow Lord Voldemort to parts unknown while a great wall of water seemed certain to bury the old wizard for good. It was magic so intense that few wizards could even imagine it. It seemed impossible to speculate on the eventual victor.

It was not impossible for Harry, though, who had seen Voldemort and Dumbledore duel before in the Ministry of Magic. Now he saw subtle changes in Dumbledore's wandwork, a slower pace and a definite delay in reaction times. Although it had taken many lifetimes, old age had finally caught up with Dumbledore and it seemed inevitable that he would succumb to Voldemort.

"Well, that's the fate he fashioned for himself," Harry supposed. "Only once he's done with Dumbledore, he's going to come looking for me."

Although Harry had accepted his death, he had no desire to die in the manner described by Voldemort. Besides, he still had his duty to Neville, which now seemed even more urgent. For, after listening to Voldemort, Harry felt even worse about his part in Dumbledore's plan. He could no deny responsibility for the number of people who had died today. While he had once been an ignorant tool used by Dumbledore, he was now a willing participant in his plans, nor could he ignore his own forays into Darkness. Lupin's death, in particular, hung heavily on him.

Neville, it seemed, was the only unblemished participant in the equation, Dumbledore's lamb for the slaughter. He was the only true hero in all of this and Harry would be damned if he would let him be denied the one thing he had asked for himself. He did not know how but he was going to defeat Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I won't let you down, Neville," he resolved as he kicked off on his broom. The battle was restarting outside the castle and somewhere in the fray was Bellatrix Lestrange.

He found her near the back of the castle grounds, throwing fir at a very frightened Filch who was trying to escape with Mrs. Norris in his arms. He weaved desperately to both sides leaving charred ground behind him. Bellatrix laughed cruelly at his predicament.

She's toying with him, thought Harry bitterly. She could hit him if she wanted to. At least he would put a stop to that.

"So this is your contribution to Voldemort's cause?" he cried. "Bullying a squib? That's useful."

Bellatrix turned quickly. "Trying to flee, Harry Potter? Because after Dumbledore you're next!"

"Actually, I've come to make you pay!" he bellowed thrusting out his wand and surprising her with a curse.

She gasped and began to fall but quickly recovered. The curse had not been strong enough. She smirked at him.

"Pity the Dark Lord wants to kill you himself. I rather fancy the chance to make the Chosen One beg for mercy."

Harry tightened his grasp on his broom and she turned back toward the castle.

"Ta ta, Potter. I've got work to do." With a wave, she sped away.

"Your work here is done!" Harry cried and quickly followed on his broom trying to stun her from behind.

Thus began a heart-stopping chase. Bellatrix flew wildly, barely clearing towers, making sudden dips and hairpin turns, but she could not lose Harry who was flying with reckless abandon. Nothing mattered anymore but taking her down. He tried desperately to hit her with a curse but could not stop her, not at these speeds. She threw fireballs back at him and set his broom alight.

Bellatrix cackled as he struggled to put the fire out and she began to ascend high above the castle. She made an eerie sight with her robes billowing and her hair blowing wildly. Still her tiara sat perfectly upon her head, undisturbed by their wild race.

She's bewitched it to stay there, Harry realized. If he could only get it away from her the barrage of fire would cease but it seemed impossible. He circled below her trying to formulate a plan.

"Given up, Potter?" she called down.

He wasn't giving up. And although he knew that he could beat her if he could separate her from the enchanted tiara. He knew some spells which might help but he would have to get much closer. She seemed weary of the chase now and, if he charged her, Harry was certain she would stand her ground and attack.

He immediately pulled up and flew at her at full speed, his wand thrust out in front of him. She did not opt to use her wand and responded again with her tiara. Harry found himself hurtling toward a wall of flames but he did not slow down. He aimed his broom to fly over it but failed to clear it cleanly.

The end of his broom had ignited. He could smell it but he had no time to attend to it. He had confused Bellatrix. She did not realize that he was now behind her.

"Finite incantatem!" he hissed aiming his wand at the tiara. He thought he saw it slip slightly on her head but could not be sure.

Bellatrix rounded on him and there were flames everywhere. He dropped on his broom but not before a fireball grazed his face. Harry screamed in pain. He was losing control of the broom and falling fast. Bellatrix bore down on him.

The sky was alive with fire and now she was pulling out her wand to finish him off. Harry prayed that his spell had worked and raised his wand shakily.

"Accio tiara!" he pleaded desperately.

It had worked! The tiara hurtled towards him and he reached out to catch it. Bellatrix did not appear to know what had happened. For a second she seemed to hang in the air, still confident in her position, but then she tumbled forward and started to fall.

She fell through her own flames before reaching out desperately toward Harry. Her robes were on fire and she had lost her wand but somehow she managed to grab the front of Harry's broom. The extra strain on the damaged broom was too great. They began to fall even faster. Harry could not shake her off and he feared that would both fall or be burned to death.

Bellatrix was in agony. Harry could smell her flesh burning. He had just enough control over the broom to roll it six times in succession and pull up. It was a technique Viktor had bored him with two years ago but it worked. With an inhuman cry, Bellatrix Lestrange fell from the broom.

Harry watched her fall, a human fireball, until she smashed into the top tower of the castle. It was harrowing to watch, all the more because Harry believed he was destined for the same fate. His robes were on fire. His broom was on fire and he could not control it.

"I did it, Neville,' he murmured. It did not make up for everything he had done but at least it was one small thing.

It took all of his flying ability and a great deal of luck but he managed to maneuver his broom over the lake. Then with one hand clutching Bellatrix's broken tiara and the other his mother's wand, Harry jumped off the broom.

It seemed a lifetime before he hit the water but when he broke the surface, burned but very much alive, he suddenly knew that Lord Voldemort was going to be defeated. Whatever the cost, whatever they had done to bring about the victory, Voldemort would be gone forever. He had not failed Neville and Neville would not fail them.

By the sound of it, the duel between Dumbledore and Voldemort was still raging and, with the enchantments on the castle lifted, Harry was able to apparate right to it.

Both wizards had taken hits but Albus Dumbledore was now plainly losing the duel. No longer able to attack, he struggled just to defend himself. He was wounded, exhausted and desperately trying to stave off the death blow.

To give Neville the time he needs, thought Harry. But where was Neville? He did not see him among the crowd of horrified on-lookers but, as he looked more closely, Harry spotted him on the other side of the path, trying to conceal himself by the castle's corner. In his hand was the Scepter of Fattum.

Does he know about Bellatrix Lestrange? Harry wondered. Does he know I avenged his family?

It seemed doubtful but there was Neville preparing to put Dumbledore's plan into action, preparing, in short, to die. Harry could not let that happen, not without his knowing about Bellatrix. Still, he did not dare approach Neville for fear of discovery. He looked once more from Dumbledore to Voldemort. He knew what he had to do, how to get his message to Neville.

Steeling himself, he leapt into the path of the duel and faced Lord Voldemort who seemed surprised.

"What is this? The Chosen One has sought me out?" he smiled his terrible smile. "Why is this? Are you ready to die now, Harry Potter?"

Harry's heart pounded wildly in his chest. But he had no response but to fling Bellatrix Lestrange's broken tiara at Voldemort's feet.

The crowd gasped. They knew there was only one way to wrest that tiara from Bellatrix. Lord Voldemort reached down and picked up the pieces, examining them with disbelief.

"This was Slytheran's gift to his queen!" he bellowed furiously at Harry. "It had powers you could only dream of!"

Harry shrugged. "Now it's no more than a broken heirloom."

He had known that he would suffer for his boldness but he found that he had had no comprehension of Voldemort's true power. The Dark Lord retaliated swiftly with his mind and Harry crumpled to the ground. It felt as if he were being torn apart atom by atom. The pain seemed limitless, beyond human endurance.

"Please let this be death," Harry murmured weakly but the only response he got was laughter, cruel laughter reverberating inside his skull.

Then, just as quickly as it had started, it stopped. Dumbledore had rallied and come to his aid.

"I'll deal with you later," Voldemort said inside his head and rejoined Dumbledore in the duel.

Dragging himself out of harm's way, Harry searched for Neville. It was time. He could sense it. Time for all of this to end.

"Neville must not stand alone," Harry vowed and began to struggle towards the young man who had already raised the scepter and was murmuring the incantation which had the power to destroy a man's soul. By the time he reached him, the sky had already begun to darken but only the two from the Prophecy knew what it meant.

And although Neville was deeply involved with the intricate wizardly required, Harry had the sense that he knew he was there. He saw a glimmer of recognition in Neville's eyes, along with the same calm acceptance of fate that he himself had now found.

Then the spell took full effect and Harry knew no more.


	74. Announcement

Author's Note: Hello Readers. When I planned to post my last installment this week I did not realize that it was a holiday weekend and that it would fall on Good Friday. So under those circumstances I am going to have postpone it until next Friday. I apologize for the inconvenience but know that some of you will also be away or with family. I'll see you on the 28th! Have a great Easter!


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